OK guys, here's another one, just to 'prime' potatoes story-telling pump.
I met this man at a nice little bar in a nearby ski resort area, about an hour away. It's a place where I'm familiar with the staff, and always feel comfortable. He's told me he's in his mid-50's, is a salesman, and is raising a couple of boys on his own.
While I'm driving there I get a call from him saying he's delayed about an hour. I agree to meet him later, and stop to do some shopping to fill in the time. I get to the restaurant and he's at the bar chatting it up with the (female) barkeep. I take a seat near him, and we're looking over the wine list. This fellow looks at least 10 years older than he claimed to be - one of my pet peeves. (Hey, do they think we're not gonna figure it out?) He tells me he used to be a wine distributor, and is quite the connoisseur. He proceeds to ask the barkeep if she will let him check out one of the opened bottles behind the bar, and she hands it to him.
He takes the cork off the top, and sticks his nose right onto the neck of the bottle to smell it! By now I've finished my first glass of wine, and order another (NOT the sniffed at one. . .) He starts telling me about how he dated another woman and spent almost 80 bucks on her, and it was all for nothing since she didn't even let him take her to bed. He lets me know that he's brought a bottle of wine with him, and it's in his car, so he doesn't have to spend a wad of money.
By now I'm fully aware this guy is a
Loser. So I ask him if I can see his I.D. He gets flustered, but pulls out his wallet, and as he's handing me his license, sputters that he's really 62 years old. I tell him there's no way I would date a man who would try to start a relationship based on a lie. . .and then I pull out MY wallet, tell him he doesn't have to be worried about spending a single dime on THIS date, pay for my drinks, and leave. He almost fell off the barstool. (Later I thought I should have told him to take his bottle of wine to the nearby hotel, get a room, and I'd meet him there in a half hour. . .

)
About a week later I'm back at that restaurant, and the barkeep comes over and says she had never seen body language as stiff and 'stay away from my space' as mine had been, and asks what the hell was going on. I tell her, and she starts cracking up. It seems this jerk had arrived at the restaurant early, and was trying to pick her up b/4 I arrived (she's a 30-ish cutey). . .and that was why he wanted me to get there an hour later. Guess he got unlucky twice that evening. LOL.
OK 'tater. Your turn. . .