CREEK ROAD GANG
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Let's Go Dutch
by Kitty Kono
copyright 2009
August second, 1993 was a hot, humid day in Philadelphia. I had a blind date that night with a man who would become my husband a year and a half later. The date was arranged by – of all things – a dating service called “Let’s Go Dutch.” Had my parents been alive, they would have cringed. A dating service was just not an appropriate way for their daughter to meet someone – especially her husband. I kind of agreed, but time was getting a little short. I was forty years old and still wanted to have a bunch of kids. I had been searching for the right guy for over twenty years and had met every Tom, Dick and Harry from coast to coast, but nothing stuck. They were either not interested in me or too interested. A girl friend from my acting class suggested I give the dating service a try. What the heck, what did I have to lose? I was pretty street smart and maybe, just maybe I might get lucky.
I contacted Let’s Go Dutch and set up an interview. I went into their office on Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia and spent about an hour with one of the partners. She asked me all sorts of questions about myself, my family, my grandparents, my job, my likes and dislikes. After the interview and writing a check for $350, she told me she would introduce me to ten nice men over the next twelve months. Oh boy, this would be interesting.
The first three I met were O.K but definitely no chemistry. Number four was pretty good – but he didn’t appreciate my sense of humor. He also had lots of old wounds that needed healing. I was willing to help work on those wounds, but he realized our relationship was not going anywhere. I was sad when he ended it after two months. My contact at the dating service, true to form, called me right back after number four left and said she had number five all lined up. He was a successful businessman in his late 40’s, recently divorced and Asian. Asian … I thought I was very open minded, but my immediate reaction was – this will never work. The dating service lady convinced me to give it a try, so I said O.K, but I had no great expectations.
The way this operated was that the dating service would call each of the two people they were trying to match. They would describe the candidate, and if each party agreed, they would make a reservation for the two at a convenient restaurant for lunch. Nobody had to talk to anybody before the date. No pictures. Just show up and see if you like each other. And if you do, you take it from there.
My office was on Logan Circle in Center City, Philadelphia right between Moore College of Art and the Academy of Natural Sciences. It was just a block from the Four Seasons Hotel. Ken (Number Five) worked at Unisys Corporation in Blue Bell. There was no convenient place for us to meet for lunch, so the dating service suggested we meet for a drink at the Four Seasons after work, at about 6:30.
I got off work at 4:30 and could have hung around for another two hours, but it was just too hot and humid and I was not excited about the date. I walked the steamy ten blocks home to my little house and changed out of my suit, pearls and heels and into a white cotton, short-sleeved shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals. (I really had no expectations.) I walked back to the Four Seasons, got there about 6:15 and waited in the lobby. I figured we could meet there and then just go some place a lot more casual.
I was sitting in a very plush chair looking a little over heated and very out of place, when a handsome, Japanese man walked up to me and took me by surprise. He was nothing like I expected. He was tall, elegantly dressed in a well-tailored, dark navy suit with a burgundy silk tie and Italian leather shoes. He had a wonderful smile, perfectly beautiful white teeth, big warm brown Asian eyes, and thick, dark hair speckled with grey. Oh boy….. I should have gotten dressed.
We introduced ourselves and I made a little joke about not being dressed up and suggested we go some place more casual. Ken didn’t flinch. He said no problem, but let’s just stay here and go have a drink in the garden room.
We sat at a little table and I got a glass of white wine and he had a beer and I think we ordered something simple to eat. We both were pretty good at small talk. Ken asked me a lot of questions about myself and I tried to be witty. He was a great conversationalist and great listener and told me a little about himself. He was born right at the end of World War II and grew up in Tokyo. He had been working for a steel trading company after college and decided to come to the United States to go to graduate school. Twenty-four years later he was still here. He had been a professor of business administration at the University of Detroit and then at Hofstra in New York. While teaching he started his own consulting company and was hired full time by Unisys, a computer company. All his family were still living in Japan. He said his mother had died just recently and he was leaving the next day for a ceremony in her honor back in Tokyo.
After about an hour of good conversation, we got up to go. Ken asked if he could give me a ride home and I said no thanks. I felt like walking. He didn’t ask me for my telephone number, but I wanted him too. As I began to walk away, I took one of my business cards out of my wallet, turned around, walked back and handed it to him.
When I got home I wondered if I would ever see him again. Two weeks went by and I heard nothing. Then one day in the third week, I came home from work and had a message on my answering machine. It was Ken. He was back from Japan and wondered if we wanted to try it again. He left his phone number and I called him back. I suggested Friday night – but he was busy – Saturday night – also busy. This was a busy guy.
“How about going to the Art Museum on Sunday?” I suggested.
“O.K.”
He showed up at my door on Sunday morning in shorts and a polo shirt and sneakers. We walked to the art museum and browsed through a photography exhibit. Then we walked slowly back home. That was the beginning.
I contacted Let’s Go Dutch and set up an interview. I went into their office on Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia and spent about an hour with one of the partners. She asked me all sorts of questions about myself, my family, my grandparents, my job, my likes and dislikes. After the interview and writing a check for $350, she told me she would introduce me to ten nice men over the next twelve months. Oh boy, this would be interesting.
The first three I met were O.K but definitely no chemistry. Number four was pretty good – but he didn’t appreciate my sense of humor. He also had lots of old wounds that needed healing. I was willing to help work on those wounds, but he realized our relationship was not going anywhere. I was sad when he ended it after two months. My contact at the dating service, true to form, called me right back after number four left and said she had number five all lined up. He was a successful businessman in his late 40’s, recently divorced and Asian. Asian … I thought I was very open minded, but my immediate reaction was – this will never work. The dating service lady convinced me to give it a try, so I said O.K, but I had no great expectations.
The way this operated was that the dating service would call each of the two people they were trying to match. They would describe the candidate, and if each party agreed, they would make a reservation for the two at a convenient restaurant for lunch. Nobody had to talk to anybody before the date. No pictures. Just show up and see if you like each other. And if you do, you take it from there.
My office was on Logan Circle in Center City, Philadelphia right between Moore College of Art and the Academy of Natural Sciences. It was just a block from the Four Seasons Hotel. Ken (Number Five) worked at Unisys Corporation in Blue Bell. There was no convenient place for us to meet for lunch, so the dating service suggested we meet for a drink at the Four Seasons after work, at about 6:30.
I got off work at 4:30 and could have hung around for another two hours, but it was just too hot and humid and I was not excited about the date. I walked the steamy ten blocks home to my little house and changed out of my suit, pearls and heels and into a white cotton, short-sleeved shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals. (I really had no expectations.) I walked back to the Four Seasons, got there about 6:15 and waited in the lobby. I figured we could meet there and then just go some place a lot more casual.
I was sitting in a very plush chair looking a little over heated and very out of place, when a handsome, Japanese man walked up to me and took me by surprise. He was nothing like I expected. He was tall, elegantly dressed in a well-tailored, dark navy suit with a burgundy silk tie and Italian leather shoes. He had a wonderful smile, perfectly beautiful white teeth, big warm brown Asian eyes, and thick, dark hair speckled with grey. Oh boy….. I should have gotten dressed.
We introduced ourselves and I made a little joke about not being dressed up and suggested we go some place more casual. Ken didn’t flinch. He said no problem, but let’s just stay here and go have a drink in the garden room.
We sat at a little table and I got a glass of white wine and he had a beer and I think we ordered something simple to eat. We both were pretty good at small talk. Ken asked me a lot of questions about myself and I tried to be witty. He was a great conversationalist and great listener and told me a little about himself. He was born right at the end of World War II and grew up in Tokyo. He had been working for a steel trading company after college and decided to come to the United States to go to graduate school. Twenty-four years later he was still here. He had been a professor of business administration at the University of Detroit and then at Hofstra in New York. While teaching he started his own consulting company and was hired full time by Unisys, a computer company. All his family were still living in Japan. He said his mother had died just recently and he was leaving the next day for a ceremony in her honor back in Tokyo.
After about an hour of good conversation, we got up to go. Ken asked if he could give me a ride home and I said no thanks. I felt like walking. He didn’t ask me for my telephone number, but I wanted him too. As I began to walk away, I took one of my business cards out of my wallet, turned around, walked back and handed it to him.
When I got home I wondered if I would ever see him again. Two weeks went by and I heard nothing. Then one day in the third week, I came home from work and had a message on my answering machine. It was Ken. He was back from Japan and wondered if we wanted to try it again. He left his phone number and I called him back. I suggested Friday night – but he was busy – Saturday night – also busy. This was a busy guy.
“How about going to the Art Museum on Sunday?” I suggested.
“O.K.”
He showed up at my door on Sunday morning in shorts and a polo shirt and sneakers. We walked to the art museum and browsed through a photography exhibit. Then we walked slowly back home. That was the beginning.
* * *
Kitty Kono grew up on a dairy farm in Quakertown, Pennsylvania during the 1950's.After graduating from Hollins College in Roanoke, Virginia with a bachelor's degree in psychology, she spent the next 32 years working for the American Society for Testing and Materials (ASTM International) doing all sorts of jobs from secretary in the public relations division to vice president of Global Cooperation. She retired in 2007 and spent the last year in Japan with her husband and 12 year old daughter. She has taken up photography with a passion and her photographs can be seen at her website at www.kittykono.com.
