In which my life starts resembling a period novel

So my aunt and uncle's landscaper is going to come call on me tonight. Which, the language there just makes me feel like I dropped into a Victorian novel, although this is at least one or two class level differences that would make a standard Victorian go apoplectic.

...Not quite sure how he went from yes he could ask for my phone number to call and talk sometime to see if we had anything in common to having the first step be a formal sit-down with my aunt providing tea and cookies and backing out of the room, but yeah, there's that.

This will either be nice or completely awkward. At this point I'm taking bets.