While working at the Council on International Education Exchange [C.I.E.E.], I also wrote a folk love song for a white woman in her 20's with long dark hair whom I considered beautiful and felt drawn to, named Paula, after meeting her for lunch in Midtown one 1970's weekday in the Spring. She was from suburban New Jersey and had some kind of well-paying job that involved helping to keep track of the additional money that the Midtown Manhattan book publishing firm she worked for made from selling subsidiary rights for things like movie adaptations and tv adaptations of the books they published, etc.
But after meeting me for lunch, Paula apparently felt no reciprocal physical or romantic attraction for me; and by the third time I telephoned her to see if she wanted to get together again for a date, she made it clear that the reason she was unavailable for a date the first and second times I called her after our lunch hour together wasn't really just because she was busy that evening. The deeper reason was that she had decided after talking with me during our lunch hour together that she didn't want to have anything to do with me; and, after I telephoned her a second time, she had begun to consider me as some kind of pest.
So after feeling the hostile vibes of her voice's tone, following my third telephone call to her, I wrote off Paula as being too culturally straight to interest me, despite her physical beauty--although I did still sing the folk love song I had written for her after our first lunch hour together for a few years, because I liked that particular folk song's melody (which is a melody I now know longer remember).