what would we talk about

old man invited me to lunch I was young; he was an ancient antique what would we talk about? I asked. Anything you want, he replied. I felt weird about it. I was young, cute sexy, sassy. He was old, stooped, gray, wrinkled. I said “Maybe another time.” He knew I was lying. Gave me a sad look Fifty years later I remember his look of disappointment Wondering what I missed.