i saved your number "do not answer"

look.
i need coffee just like any other person in seattle, except i'm pretty sure i need it more. i need it when i wake up, i need it when i'm headed to class, i need it before i go to sleep. i figured if this is the biggest vice i've got, i'm doing alright. so look, i went to a concert the other night and it was pretty empty when doors opened so i got my stamp and walked across the street to the holy grail of coffee, vivace's, for a little something to keep me warm and occupied.
the great thing about coffee is that you can have it alone with your newspaper (stranger, seattle weekly, or homework) and people understand that you need a little brain stimulation, just not necessarily from any joe walking down the street.
i had about a half hour to kill and i scanned all the open seats... realizing my options were next to:

a) the evangelist and potential convert.
b) the loud book club.
c) guy on computer.
d) student being consumed the homework they had sprawled on the surrounding tables.
e) THAT couple (you know what i'm talking about).

it was like a math problem for me, and by process of elimination i could quickly find my perfect seat to have a date with myself and my americano. on any other day, the evangelist would've been my first choice. i mean let's be real, i'm a twenty-something college student who is over-enthusiastic about her torah class and has CHOSEN to study theology. really. i would usually jump right in, but i was needing some serious alone time, something i haven't had for a good year, so i opted out. the same ruling applied for the book club, and i was left with three more seats.
i knew in the next five days i'd have my own homework eating me for breakfast, and the poor student i was debating sitting near looked like they were about to cry if anyone came close, so i nixed him out of my seating option, too.
and THAT couple? yeah right.

which left my with guy on computer.
easy.
unassuming.
he looked like he was having a relationship with his computer, so i took my polite two seats away and sat with my paper and my coffee. bliss.
i am such a nerd.

and then it started, innocent of course, with an inquiry to keep an eye on his computer while he used the mens room. i assured him i'd give the ol' one-two if someone tried to take his stuff, and received a quick punch in the shoulder as a thanks.
note to all: using the bathroom as an excuse to talk to a girl, and then punching her in the arm is not a good pick up line.
there was the return and the thanks, and i had my coffee and my paper and was fine. and then he asked to see my hand.
what?
apparently it was the beginning of a thumb-war initiation. cute, if i was like five. but ok, look: he JUST came from the bathroom. HE IS A STRANGER, and he was not smooth with his game. i did not want to touch his hands, who knows if he washed them post-restoom? being the socially awkward genius i am, i turned it away from thumb-waring, assuring him i was reading something good (is there anything ever really good in the stranger? i should've picked up a real paper. or a book).
he then had to know what i was reading.
not just an inquiry but a DEMAND. he INSISTED i move closer than my polite two seats away, and when i declined, he moved in.
he HAD TO KNOW what i was reading, doing with my life, doing in seattle, etc, and he was not talking to my face.
GUYS: girls know when you're talking a good foot below their eyes. don't be a slimeball, be a man and grow up.
there is a fine line between entertaining conversation and flirting. are people no longer courteous? did this man really think my one-word answers were just an attempt to be coy? i could not deflect his need to know, but it was at the point where it was MY corner and MY seat and MY time at vivace's, and i wasn't about to let some slimeball take away the joy i find at the holy grail of coffee.
i looked around, and realized all the previously open seats were taken (save for the one next to THAT couple, but i wasn't about to get anywhere near it).
he was trying to play his game well. some guy must have written a book that said "ask girls questions about themselves and you'll score big time. girls love talking about themselves". ok. there's truth to this, but in the way that EVERYONE likes talking about themselves: it's the subject they know best. this guy was going overboard. whenever i turned the conversation around, he gave three answers. he was in art school. no, actually he was studying to be a massage therapist. no, actually he wasn't in school.
you know what? i didn't really care what he was doing.
he was just making it obvious that he was a bad liar.
are all men bad liars?
and if so, why not just tell the truth?

then my saving grace arrived:
the one question people always ask, and upon my answering the creepers usually back off.
"what are you studying?" he asked.
aha.
this conversation was over, right?
wrong.
"theology" i answered. the same thing always happens: the blank stare followed by the furrowed brow, followed by the "oh. are you going to be a minister?"
he then told me he loved religions.
and that he loved the bible.
and hebrew.
and judaism.
"what religion do you practice" he asked.
he then told me he loved catholicism.
and christian mysticism.
now, look, he could have been telling the truth MAYBE, but two things gave him away:
ONE, i've talked with enough of the theology department to know what genuine lovers of theology sound like when they talk about it all. actually, i've talked to enough people with things they are passionate about, that i can hear the genuine tone of happiness when they begin to talk about things they love. this man had an overemphasis on everything, excessive nodding, and a way of cutting off the tail end of all my sentences that just rubbed me the wrong way in general.
TWO, i know seattle. i've been in a relationship with the city for the last eight years and i know what people here are like. i know we live in a city that is very non-religious. i know the trendy answer to religion is "i'm spiritual but don't ascribe to anything in particular" or "i'm against organized religion" or whatever bs. i know my city, and i have a pretty good feeling i've met almost everyone that reads christian, jewish, and muslim mysticism for fun.
i was at the point that i was turning into a jerk entertaining the conversation, so i told him i had to go.
and then...
then! he asked for my number.
now, look, i've only been asked for my number twice previously in my whole life. i didn't know people still did that, i thought they just facebook stalked or got it through the grapevine or something... panicked, tired, and ready to leave, i asked instead for his ("panicked" being the key word). he had that slimey look on his face like he just won something by means of cheating, scribbled his number, and passed it over as i was on my way out.

courtesy is my biggest vice.
so i saved his number as "creepy: do not answer".