Geezer in denial

Last Saturday I went out with an old man. His profile said he was 36 but when I met him, he was more like 46 or maybe even 56! He took me out to dinner, produces infomercials, such as Tony Robbins and the Gazelle. He listens to old people's music, named dropped a million times, lives on the upper west side off central park and told me all the famous people he's seen or that live near him. It was obviously a ton of fun that night for me. We parted, I didn't think we'd hang out again, or maybe that was my head wishfully thinking I didn't want to hang out again.

He called this week and wants to hang out again. He offered to come over and take care some of the handy work I needed done in my apartment that I had been complaining about (put up my new shower head, reattach my towel rack). Of course I said I couldn't let him do this for me, we had just met, I wasn't a user. He insisted. He said that's what friends do. Just like how I was burning a CD for a work friend (that's what I was doing when he called), he could help me.

Oh man. Old, boring, lying about his age. Or helpful. Oh man, my head hurts!!