MasseurPosted: October 13, 2011
Despite his seductive tone, Jake didn’t manage to get Granny fired up. He sounded pretty sexy to me, a retired businessman that’s going back to school to be a massage therapist? Yes, please.
Granny didn’t agree. “An old man handing out massages, what does that say to you?” she asked. “He’ll take a cup and grab however he can get it.”
They’re cut from different cloths. She couldn’t get over the fact that he’d only visited New York, her stomping ground and life source, once. When he asked if she’d ever been to the theater she said, “Have I ever gone to the theater? Whaddaya crazy? I’m 75. If you’re from New York and 75 and have never been to the theater ya got some screws loose.”
Unfortunately there weren’t any romantic vibes but he intrigued her. “He’s spiritual and very smart, a brain, an intellectual,” she said, “but he’s book smart. I’m not book smart, I’m street smart. We’re reversed, ya catch my drift?”
At every age, but it seems especially as you get older, it’s hard to date out of your comfort zone. She said she’d like to talk to him again, purely on a platonic level, because he wasn’t like anyone she had ever met before.
I asked if there were any chance she’d let him massage her. She said, “Yeah sure, I’ll let him give me a good rub down, then I’ll be all warmed up to perform my Cirque du Soleil-ish contortion tricks,” then broke out into another fit of giggles.