Table to table invasion at the coffee house.

First meetings include all sorts of hellos and how-do-you-do’s, all easy questions slash comments,
since the answers are formulaic and roll off the tongue with ease. Unfortunately, this meet-and-
greet formula also means that deterring unwelcome acquaintances can be something tricky.
Fortunately, as a graduate student with one foot in academia and one foot in the ‘real world’, one
little question in the meeting ritual provides me with a window of self defense: What do you do?

First it must be clear what sort of unexpected invader is herein referred to. Now, there are
unwelcome people on the one hand, and unwelcome things that pose as people on the other.

The unwelcome thing is also known by its more common designation of ‘the Intruder.’ This particular sort of creature earns its name by virtue of the fact that its presence is both unexpected and
unwanted.

I’m talking about the random critter that sits a few tables away staring, watching you read and sip your coffee, observing how you are carefully avoiding eye contact, even witnessing that you are periodically making phone calls during reading breaks clearly to avoid engaging others, and yet... despite your best efforts to throw ‘go away’ body language its way, the Intruder locks in eye contact and grins, maneuvers your way, plops itself before you, and then... it speaks.

Why the thing does not simply give a nod or wave from afar remains a mystery. It seems to
believe endless and painfully mindless talk about itself is exciting to everyone and anyone it
approaches. Fortunately, even the Intruder is prone to respecting some of the rules of
engagement, and following the initial hellos and howdy’s, it asks the blessed questions that triggers
the plan of escape: “What do you do?”

Under normal circumstances, the situation guides me to the simplest and most socially
comfortable answer to the question. However, when approached specifically by the Intruder, a
retreat strategy must be activated post haste. In these cases, I target what hopefully will be the
aspect of my life that Mr. or Ms. Creepy is most likely to run screaming from for fear of death by
boredom: the Linguistics grad student card.

Sometimes I’m rewarded with a blank look and they
move on. (Let’s face it, most people don’t know what it is or care for that matter.) However, some
Intruders are more persistent than others and sometimes, brute force is in order. A nice sprinkling
of obscure terminology glazed with a hard-to-hear monotone often works nicely—if you can
manage to get in a good snort-laugh, that helps.
This strategy must, however, be employed with great care.

Depending on the brand of creepy of
the creature in question, tedious lingo delivered in an unexpressive tone may entice it, rather than
repel it. A good policy when faced with such a quandary is to save your self! Sacrifice your
perfectly chosen spot on the patio; pack your things in a mad dash on the very rapidly explained
pretext of a previous engagement that had slipped your mind (getting someone at the airport, for
example) and run, run like the wind while you are still able! Toss the tip over your shoulder, say
your apologetic goodbyes quickly (being careful not to include any questions that it could attempt
to answer), grab your cup and gulp desperately all the way to the exit point.

Far better to gulp perfectly good coffee than choke on a horrible conversation that will, no doubt,
last entirely too long.