I came across one such woman in Rio de Janeiro. I met her online. She was a psychologist. (As an aside, there seem to be a lot of female psychologists in Rio since I chatted with at least 4 of them in a very short span of time.) She was half black, and the rest mostly European, but also had some native indigenous blood. She spoke a little English. Conversation was a little difficult, but still manageable. We decided to meet at a place close to the apartment I was staying in, in the tourist neighborhood of Copacabana, by the famous eponymous beach.
She showed up about 25 minutes late, which I wasn't bothered by because she took public transportation from her home in the northern part of the city. Our plan was to have lunch and then go to Pao de Acucar (Sugarloaf Mountain), one of the major tourist attractions there. We ate at an Arab restaurant on the main beach thoroughfare. The food was good and we had a reasonably good -- albeit slow -- introductory conversation. She had shiny, curly hair, brown skin that matched mine. She had a nice smile and I liked her.
After lunch we started walking, primarily to go look for an ATM so that I could withdraw some cash. We held hands and we kissed, after I ascertained that she was willing to do so. Feeling very comfortable with her, I asked her if it would be okay if we popped into the apartment to take some clothes from the washer and hang them to dry. I even gave her the option of hanging around downstairs if she didn't feel comfortable going to the apartment. She became visibly upset. 'If you have things to do maybe we should meet some other time.'
It felt like an over-reaction, but in an attempt to mollify her, I told her that I would take care of my clothes later in the day. We went out in search of an ATM in an awkward silence. As luck would have it, the first ATM I tried didn't recognize my US bank card. So we went looking for an international bank. Neither of us knew where one was, and it was a Sunday. We stumbled upon 2 other banks, and neither one was able to read my card. I could sense her growing impatience. Sweating and anxious -- since I had practically no cash left -- I suggested that we try one more bank. Fortunately, after a couple of attempts, the ATM started cranking and gave me the money I needed. Sighing, I walked out to join her on the sidewalk.
'Did you get your card back?' she asked. I was both touched and encouraged by her concern. The she said, 'Is it okay if we change our plans a little? Can we go to a gastronomic fair in Lapa?'
I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was game for anything the locals found interesting. So I agreed.
'Can we take a taxi?' she asked. I'd have preferred to take a bus or the metro, which is what I did everywhere I went. And, clearly, that was her normal mode of transportation too. But I agreed and after a 20 minute ride, we were at Arches of Lapa. Now, Lapa is an interesting neighborhood with lots of bars and music halls. It's a happening place in the evenings, particularly weekends. The food fair, it turned out, was in a square right under the arches. The line to get into it was long. Instead of going to the end of the line she walked towards the entrance. I wondered if she wanted to get some information before taking her place at the end, but it turned out a friend of hers was already in the line. They had apparently agreed to meet there since he appeared to have been expecting her. They hugged and chatted in Portuguese about something that I did not understand.
Even though I was uncomfortable with the sudden turn of events I smiled and shook the friend's hand. He was a pleasant enough fellow and spoke a little English. We chatted for a bit about Brazil, Rio and America. And then the two went back to having a long conversation in Portuguese. I stood by, pretending to amuse myself with the activities around me. Every now and then she would hold my hand or hug me. I reciprocated, still hoping I could salvage the date.
The line moved slowly, and eventually we made it inside the fair. It was small and very, very crowded. I wasn't sure what the two had planned, but I learned then that a mutual friend of theirs was a chef and had a booth there. We weaved our way through the crowd presumably looking for him. I just followed them wherever they went. But there were so many people that it was impossible to find anyone there. After a few minutes of wandering around, it appeared that they'd decided that they didn't want to eat anything. The guy said he was going home and he left. I looked at my date and wondered what she wanted to do. She didn't say anything, and started walking in the opposite direction. I thought that perhaps she wanted to get away from the crowd before talking to me, so I followed her. She didn't look back and walked briskly towards another exit. I lost sight of her for a few moments, but then saw her again near the exit. I approached her and asked if there was anything in particular she wanted to do.
'I'll go home now,' she said. Her tone was decisive. I didn't think that I had a chance of persuading her otherwise. She waved to me and walked away, just like that, leaving me in the middle of the street, surprised and disoriented by her utter rudeness.
Once the initial surprise faded, I felt an anger I had never felt against any of the women I've dated. Time was precious since I was on a visit. I'd set aside the entire afternoon -- prime sightseeing time -- for her. Because of our planned date I didn't go anywhere in the morning either since that wouldn't have given me enough time to meet her. And with rains forecast for the next few days, I had a very small window of opportunity to see the sights that day, when it was gorgeous. But now it was too late for me to go to Pao de Acucar. Essentially the entire day was ruined. There was nothing to do but to find my way back to the nearest subway station to catch a train back to Copacabana.
'It could have been worse,' I kept telling myself. Rio is notorious for its crime. I still had my wallet and my camera. Only my ego was a bit bruised.
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