Pleasure of My Company

As great as Clapton was, when I read the first page of The Pleasure of My Company by Steve Martin, I couldn't put it down. Not because of suspense, but because of the awe I felt when I saw how beautiful his style is. Martin is clearly a true writer. I've also read his autobiography, Born Standing Up, and his play Picasso at the Lapin Agile for an acting class. Both pieces are great; for Born Standing Up there are almost no words. His style and his story are among the greatest I've seen or heard, and the two combined into a couple hundred pages just made an amazing and emotional read.
Now with Pleasure I'm getting to see another side of him; a side that was hiding behind something translucent in Born Standing Up. In his autobiography, I could almost see a loner side to him, and the main character in Pleasure seems to be semi-agorophobic, and seems to have crushes on almost every female in his life, including Elizabeth, the realtor trying to sell the apartment across the street, whom he has never met but is convinced he is in love with.
This main character, who has yet to be named, comes with all sorts of quirks, such as never admitting his real age. He changes it depending on his mood, the day, who he's with, etc. He is also one of those people who overthinks everything; such as what to wear, when to go outside, whether or not to wear sunglasses. Though it's clear through all of these quirks that he is a good, caring, relatively sane person. I am so interested to see what comes in the next hundred pages of this novel.