We’d been club-hopping.
We’d had “first date” questions.
We’d been dancing – to tribal belly-dancing music.
We’d had a drink (her an organic porter, me a gin and tonic).
We’d walked through the streets, after I offered and she accepted my arm.
We’d discussed what made the iPhone so damned sexy.
We’d done all that, when she stopped short. She looked up at me and said, “Before we go any further, I just want you to know that I don’t intend to pursue this as a physical relationship. Are you OK with that?”
I smiled. Was it a smile of acceptance, or one of embarrassment? I couldn’t tell.
I replied, “I enjoy your company and your conversation. I’m OK with that.” Mine was an honest answer, but I did not mention the disappointment and feeling of rejection. That I kept to myself.
The evening continued.