Interwebs Dating. Number One.

I am in love with someone who is not in love with me. This has been going on for months. It is pathetic. What can I do?

Date. Via the internet.

My date had programmed me into his schedule for a precise half-hour, between I don’t know what and a very important group meeting he arranged for his very important non-profit global music group. I only learned later how very important the group and its global nature were, but I thought I would throw it in here.

I cannot underestimate its importance, after all.

He was ten minutes late. And someone from the group showed up after two minutes. I asked him to sit between us but no one heard me.
He did look like his photos, a plus. Unfortunately he looked like the “well, he might resemble a fish” end of his photos, but I cannot complain since that was at least partially advertised.

My date took care to mention that he was trying to close a deal on a start-up internet company that will pay him over six figures if it closes. He stressed the importance of planning now financially. I said sometimes I feel guilty at the idea of having more money than others. He expounded on the generous things one can do with money. He told me he had recently given $20 to a child in Africa. And that child had gotten clean water for three days as a result.
My date did not find anything amusing about telling a girl that he essentially fed orphans in Africa. He also failed to realize that his story would only confirm my guilty feelings regarding money.

I can’t believe I had coffee with a man who told me he gave money to an African orphan.

Clear head, clear head. Finish story. Really?
He gave money …

Ok, sorry. Yeah, he didn’t want to start a music non-profit that would promote (or whatever) only Seattle music. Because it would take years to, say, reach Russia if you started in Seattle and expanded out in ring-shaped … what? This is not a job interview, sir. I told him, nodding seriously, that it was very important to reach Russia sooner rather than later.

He also took at least four minutes from our date to discuss who would have the meeting room afterward, with a woman whose book group has met there for five years (emphasis hers) on the last Tuesday of every month.

I think he went for a kiss on the good-bye. I think I like a time-limited date.