My Grandma?

So, I'm hanging out in a coffee shop sitting next to this strange guy who keeps leaning over to tell me the name of songs that are playing. White guy- wearing a soccer jersey, wool socks and grey trail running shoes. Odd.

So, a few minutes ago he leaned over all excited and asked if i had ever seen something as he handed me his laptop. it was some green eco-environment that was for sale down in Florida. Why would a total stranger hand me his laptop to show me a newly listed "eco-environment"? (Good question.) Well, apparently they do that if they were looking for space to give their seminars on sustainable development and green business planning, and (will you look at that!!!) the space is up for sale! apparently that's how you broach a conversation with someone at a coffee shop. have you seen this (hand them your laptop) it's a a space I was looking at in sunny-Florida for my business, and it's up for sale.

Ok- maybe he's just excitable.

"No, I haven't seen that. Thanks though."

A few minutes later he asks me something, and I don't even remember what because it was an excuse for him to school me on the wayward thinking behind property taxes and personal income taxes. I didn't respond. Then, he went into this tirade about how local government is exploiting poor black people, and the abuses of utility companies and how they hit black people who typically have more than 4 people living in their homes ("you know, cousin Tyrone and everyone is always coming through and living with them on the poor side of town."), rather than wealthier white families who typically have 4 or fewer people living in them.

"Huh. Really?"

So, then he lays in about property taxes and the benefits of a graduated consumption-based tax. Now, at this point I started to inject my thinking, since I have some opinions here, and he stopped talking, but he didn't listen, because he just picked up where he left off. And, he explains how government is taking advantage of poor black people, and something needs to be done about it. He tells me about economic policies that would leave "our grandmothers" out on the street. And, after I don't respond he says, "well, not my grandmother"; I raise an eyebrow, and he says, "well, maybe not your grandmother either."

He goes on for a bit, trying to figure out my class background and what buttons to push to get me engaged and talking with him. Legalizing drugs? Prison industrial complex? Poverty? Public housing? Old people? Everyone loves old people!!

At the end of this failed attempt to engage me, he pauses for a second and says, "It's ok, I'm a Republican too." WHAT?!?!?!?!?

In the last few minutes he's tried to tell me about his trip to Iceland, and offered six or seven times to show me the pictures on his laptop. He's told me about all the times he's been interviewed by local media and the proposals he's submitted to city council. He's told me about his investment portfolio. He's told me how many languages he speaks and how many businesses he owns. He's told me that he's met with foreign heads of state, and other dignitaries.

Initially, I just thought he was a socially awkward extrovert, but now that I write it out, it looks like he may be trying (albeit very awkwardly) to flirt with me. It's that male posturing, "look how impressive I am" stuff. It's strange, because it just feels so absurd on this side of the whole exchange; I may have said four sentences throughout the entire time I've been here.

And, after things died down a bit, and I didn't even look at him to grunt out "Mm-hm", he started leaning over to tell me the name of every song as it started to play. An attempt to connect? Certainly. Flirtation? Maybe that's why he's at a coffee shop on a Friday evening handing out his laptop. He needs to step up his game.

Now, he's moved onto loudly talking to himself with exasperated sighs of frustration. "I hate when you hit the tab button and it sends out your e-mail!"

Maybe I should buy him a copy of "The Game"?