I am Disturbed

And no, not in the "mental" way.  I'm upset.  I'm angry.  I'm a little thrown aback.  I had a weird/uncomfortable/freaky experience this afternoon that has made me have this really emotional, almost a fear reaction.  So, I need help in determining if I'm over-reacting.  Here's the scenario:
    There's a dude who rents a workshop directly below my apartment; he's a carpenter or something.  If pressed, I'd have to guess about 50 years old, works as a contractor, nice enough guy, seemingly all business.  So one day a couple weeks ago, he knocks on my door. He explains there's a pipe running through his workshop that's dripping incessantly, ruining wood he has stored down there and the pipe runs from my apartment.  He asks if he can check my sink to make sure I'm not the culprit.  Yeah, sure, fine.
    After about 10 minutes, he who obviously has some plumbing experience b/c he's at least got all the tools determines that it is one of the pipes and he can fix it. Can he come back later in the week to replace the pipe, yada yada.  He assures me the landlord knows about the project and it'll take one afternoon, a couple hours. Sure. 
    Well, he definitely turned out to be a plumber because as any good one does, he prolonged the project for much more than just a couple hours one afternoon.  He's been up here no less than three times and to arrange these has called me about 100x.  Maybe I'm an idiot, but I never thought of it...until last time...when he, with a flashlight in hand, newly determined it was a pipe that he couldn't fix and that the whole thing was shot to hell.  But all was not lost.  Graciously, told me that to thank me for my patience, he would take me to dinner.  Yeah...OH...NO.  At that very MOMENT I would have shuffled him out, blocked his phone number, and that would have been it, but there was still a gaping hole under my sink.  I would have been happy to let it go, except the building manager was up here the other day asking how things were going and, when he saw it said, "Oh...well, we can't have that...the mice will love this cabinet."  Oh hell no.  So, sure enough.  I get another phone call from plumber/shop guy to patch this thing up. Needless to say, "dread" pretty accurately describes how I felt about this last meeting.  I thought very seriously about employing Andras or another male with an open afternoon to "sit in" as an illusion of a significant other to give a not-so-subtle suggestion of "being off the market" so to speak (I even considered asking a female friend for the same function to really hammer home the "bummer not available" message).  But then I stopped myself.  "What kind of grown up are you, Katie?" I asked myself.  I can handle this on my own--no lying, no subterfuge...certainly no dinner.
    So this afternoon was it.  Dude was up here for almost 2 hours doing what he assured me was a 15 minute job.  I felt like a hostage here.  So sure enough, he's packing his stuff up and says, "Hey can you come and look at this?"
    "Oh no," I thought, "here it comes." 
    "So there y'go.  All buttoned up...hey can I say something without being fresh?"
    " (OH NO, OH NO) Sure, I guess."
    "Y'look good t'day...naw, I'm serious."
    "Thanks."
    "So...you got a boyfriend?"
       *this is where I start to get angry.  Excuse you but you're in MY HOUSE, not some bar that I can walk out of.  AND I THOUGHT THIS WAS ABOUT PLUMBING! AND WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS?   But how do I really say all that without prolonging conversation and WHILE HE'S STILL IN MY HOUSE?  
    "Yeah...I do (having to lie was the only choice as I see it.  I could have gone the high road and not lied, but then I sensed I'd feel like a total sitting duck here.  He knows where I live.  HE'S GOT MY PHONE NUMBER.  So of course, I told him about Michael*)
    "Aw...well, I'll tell him the next time I see him...y'look great." (not only gag but double gag because I'm getting hit on in my own home.  I now feel dirty here and like I have to change my clothes and wash every surface--which it could probably use anyway, but how, exactly, do you wash off disgust?
    "Well, I'm sure he'd appreciate it." (now I'm vomiting a little in my mouth and I can't really believe this is happening to me.) I go back to my computer and furiously start typing, looking like I'm doing something HIGHLY important. As he's leaving (thank god) he says:
    "Well...till next time Honey." OH MY GOD GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT.
    So now I'm angry and shaken. I don't just let anyone into my house for a variety of reasons.  What started out as me being a good samaritan becomes me being afraid that there's gonna be a new leak next week and the issues that ensue from there.  Plus, and this makes me most angry, I obviously got played.  I have no doubt that job was a couple hours worth of work; my laid-backness about this became some kind of advantage that, I'll be honest, I don't understand.  When I ask for someone's help in the store, I'm not doing so because eventually I want to use that later.  AND...once the whole dinner comment got floated out there...I knew exactly where this was going and I was really powerless to stop it--unless I wanted mice in my house (um...no). And I felt powerless to the "looking good" commentary--how does one respond to that in a civilized way without getting an invite to a dinner one doesn't want. Maybe I'm over-reacting, but I now feel like a sitting duck here.  Thank god for Michael*. That did seem to do the trick (although I'm getting so scarily good at fabricating truth, that's freakin' me out too--I even conjured a whole back-story just in case I got a grilling on the details.  I'll share it someday) but what upsets me, maybe even about myself, is that Michael shouldn't have to exist.  I should be able to help someone out without worrying that that will be used to their own advantage somehow.  Just knowing that this whole scenario would have gone differently had I been a single guy or had someone else living here makes me infuriated. INFURIATED! (I'm shaking my head right now...in resignation, in disbelief, in annoyance...geez).

*Who's Michael?