I hate setups. Blind dates are the worst. Tom and his wife Yumi had set me up with a couple of her friends and classmates from Japan if they moved or came to San Francisco but none of them were even remotely my type- they all wanted to do whatever I wanted, had no opinions of their own, and giggled ceaselessly. I let my friends know that they really shouldn’t bother because the women just weren’t right for me and one night when I was over at their place for a barbeque I told Yumi that I liked women who didn’t look to men for answers or definition. She seemed to understand but a week later she was on the phone to me saying how her good friend Noriko was going to be in town and how much I’d like her- she was educated in England, grew up in Tokyo, was moving to SF from London and was a very successful corporate trainer. I protested a bit, but Yumi insisted, saying that this woman was different. The way she said different struck me, though I wasn’t sure whether it was because of Yumi’s accent or a special emphasis on the word. So I agreed, thinking that if it was lame I would be able cut out after a drink or two.
I was supposed to have been at Noriko’s hotel lobby at seven, but didn’t get there until seven fifty, primarily because I just didn’t care that much and I was busy getting ready for the weekend making plans for after this silly date. She wasn’t in the lobby waiting for me so I sat down, thinking she’d just stepped away for a few moments. A bellhop approached me after five minutes and asked me if I was Mr. Neil. Stumped for a moment, I said yes, in fact I was Neil, but not Mr. Neil. The bellhop slipped me a note, saying that a beautiful Asian woman had left it for me almost an hour before. Opening the note, I read, “Suite 3002”. No name. I got up and headed for the elevator.
The 30th floor of the hotel was really quiet- there were only three or four doors in the hallway and I knocked on 3002. “Come”, a clipped, clear, strong voice came through the door. I opened the door and stepped in. The room was huge, impeccably furnished, and very softly lit. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I looked around the sitting area and saw Noriko sitting at a desk in the far corner, typing furiously on a laptop. She was beautiful- she had a short power bob haircut, narrow face with a distinguished nose, and was wearing a black designer suit and black-rimmed reading glasses. “Hello”, I started, “I…” “Wait”, her voice cut me off. She kept working and I stood there, uncertain as to what to do. I cleared my throat and she looked up, glared at me and went back to her computer. Starting to feel a little guilty I had kept this clearly busy woman waiting, I tried to apologize, “Sorry that I’m late, I…” Before the excuse was out of my mouth, she held her hand up, cutting me off. Back to the laptop. I wasn’t sure what to do- I was a little miffed that she didn’t ask me to sit down or even listen to my apology. So I stood there for a few minutes looking around the room, feeling her anger toward me and occasionally stealing a glance at her, hoping somehow to catch her eye and get on her good side. I automatically wanted to please her and was feeling a bit like a truant schoolboy waiting for the headmistress to punish him. Little did I know how prophetic these thoughts were.
