Computer Repairs

After breakfast I went to work in my home office. The computer repairman was coming at eleven o’clock so I had time for a few hours of work. I work for a large company that helped people manage their money and much of my work could be done at home. It is nice to not have to go to work every morning in a shirt and tie.

Time flew by and the doorbell rang. It was eleven o’clock. I opened the door for the repairman. He came in and I showed him to my office and the computer. He asked what was wrong and I explained my computer problem. He looked me over carefully. I’m 48 and have grey hair in my beard and sideburns. I work out at the gym four times a week and my body is in pretty good shape. He seemed satisfied with my appearance so I pointed to the computer on the desk.

He put his tools down and began examining the computer.

I looked closely at him. He was about 25, tall and thin. He had black hair and appeared to be rather hairy. There was thick hair on his arms and I noticed a tuft of hair in the opening of his shirt. I sat down and talked to him while he worked. I found that he was attending night school working on an advanced degree. His name was Dan. When I asked him if he was married he said he was alone. As soon as he finished night classes he was planning to start to date again. We talked and shared stories for a while before he said he had to get down under the desk and check connections.

I watched him kneel and crawl under the desk. After a few moments checking all the connections he backed out and started to rise, but suddenly, he stopped and grabbed his back.

"Damn," he said rubbing his low back.

"What’s the matter?" I asked.

"I hurt my back last week and it has been driving me crazy." He picked up his tools and turned back to the computer, but I continued to ask questions about his injury while he worked. He said he never went to the doctor because it was not that bad. It just hurt when he moved around certain ways. He worked the next fifteen minutes on the computer before he finished. Then he straightened top of the desk, and put his tools away.

"Why don’t you get a massage? Maybe a good masseur could work out that back problem." I said steering the conversation back to his injury. "My masseur at the gym often helps me out."

"I’ve never had a massage. They are expensive aren’t they?"

"Sometimes." I replied.

"Well, maybe I can find one." he said.

"I could give you a massage. I’ve had a lot of them and I might be able to help you relax the muscle that is causing the problem. And there’s no charge for mine."

"I don’t know..." he hesitated.

"Come on," I said. "I have a massage table in my exercise room."

I started down the hall and he put his tools down and followed. When we got to my exercise room I spread a clean towel out on the table.

"Come on. Undress." I said.

"Do I have to," he asked still sounding hesitant.

"It’s alright. I can’t work on you with all those