My post octogenarian-aged boyfriend

As some of you may know I have a 93 year old friend named Harold who lives at the Presbyterian Home, one of the many nursing homes in bustling Clinton, SC.  Last year I visited Harold about once a week through Student Volunteer Services, a program PC offers.  Although I signed up to once again visit Harold last semester, no one ever contacted me about details, so I forgot.  I have seen Harold a handful of times since coming back to school when my sorority makes visits, but not nearly as often as before.

Tuesday at 1:26 pm I received a call from a Clinton number on my cell phone.  The possibilities of who could be on the other line began to overwhelm me...there are, after all, so many famous people in Clinton who might solicit conversation with me.  I picked up the phone and heard a weary, old voice: "Amanda, I don't know if you remember me, but this is Harold."

After not seeing Harold regularly, he decided to hit me up!  Don't know exactly how he got my phone number (and to be honest, am quite disturbed by it), but enjoyed a good minute or two conversation with Harold before my German class.

I told Harold I had class at 1:30 and would call him back.  My phone died Wednesday so Thursday I decided to call Harold after lunch.  A brief description of our exchange:

Me (speaking very slow and loud): "Hi Harold!  This is Amanda."
Harold: "Well hey there Amanda!"
Me: "How are you doing?"
Harold: "Well the good news is I'm breathing.  Just got to start facing the reality that I'm old"
Me: "Sorry Harold"
Harold: "The real question is how are you!"
Me: "I'm doing good"
Harold: "How was your summer?" (keep in mind we had this conversation today, in March)
Me: "It was good Harold!  I spent the summer in Myrtle Beach."
Harold: "Well I sure haven't seen you in a while.  Every time I see those ZTA girls I look for you but never see you."
Me: "Maybe I can come visit you tomorrow?"
Harold: "You?  Visit me?  Tomorrow's Friday.  So Friday, the 18th..."
Me: "Yeah Harold!  Like maybe 2.30?"
Harold: "Tuesday?  Well let's see here...Tuesday's the 23"
Me: "What about tomorrow?"
Harold: "Tomorrow's Friday, Friday the 18th...what time?"
Me: "2:30"
Harold: "Tuesday?"
Me: "Tomorrow"
Harold: "Tomorrow's Friday, Friday the 18th...what time?"
Me: "3 pm?"
Harold: "Sounds great.  Just one more thing: you might want to bring a baseball bat."
Me: "A baseball bat?"
Harold: "A baseball bat or an umbrella"
Me: "Why?"
Harold: "Because I'm going to be so overwhelmed with affection that you might have to fight me away."
Me: "WHAT?"
Harold: "Yup, I mean it's going to be appropriate for public...nothing more than a kiss on the cheek"
Me: "Ok Harold.  See you tomorrow."

Fast forward to today.  All day, especially during lunch at GDH, I tried to sucker my friends into joining me on my venture to the Presbyterian Home, to no avail.  After a brief nap and no responses to my plea, I set forth on my way to the Presbyterian Home alone.  Thankfully Harold didn't kiss me on the cheek, but he did tell me we should get dinner together sometime.

Lord, you are so funny.  :)