The Beauty from Beijing, Part II
We'd been talking for two weeks, and I figure it's time for a date. So I take a chance and plan a weekend in Beijing. B is still saying she doesn't know how much time she'll have, but I take the risk anyway. The weekend rolls around and I'm beginning to realize that I'm about to fly 6.5 hours for a date. In the states most folks hate to drive for 1 hour for a date and I need a visa for this one! (Visa was very pretty too)
B was an excellent host. We spent two straight days together - I shall never forget the little hole in the wall restaurant (best food I've ever eaten), rowing at the Summer Palace, or the frog stew (and it was not just legs). But I'm confused - does she like me? I mean does she *really* like me? Occasionally, and only occasionally, she'll let me put an arm around her. Yet she never holds my hand. I realized later why this is freaking me out. See, in America, if a gal likes a guy she reciprocates - arm in arm - but if she doesn't like the guy she isn't going to let him touch her. So here I have mixed signals in a bad way.
B was an excellent host. We spent two straight days together - I shall never forget the little hole in the wall restaurant (best food I've ever eaten), rowing at the Summer Palace, or the frog stew (and it was not just legs). But I'm confused - does she like me? I mean does she *really* like me? Occasionally, and only occasionally, she'll let me put an arm around her. Yet she never holds my hand. I realized later why this is freaking me out. See, in America, if a gal likes a guy she reciprocates - arm in arm - but if she doesn't like the guy she isn't going to let him touch her. So here I have mixed signals in a bad way.