I love coffee but sometimes it makes me sick.

I was reading my weekly tabloids when he asked "Are you waiting for someone?". Unsure of why he was asking and maybe a pinch creeped out, I replied "Uh, not really... I guess not... no." He took the liberty of resting his haunches on the chair next to me.
"Do you mind?" he asked, although I could tell he already zeroed in on the fact that I would never have had the courage to say that I did mind.
"No, it's cool". As awkward as I felt, I wasn't completely lying when I said it was cool. A little company never hurt anyone.
"Do you like Jason Mraz?" he asked, squinting at a rack of CDs that were for sale.
" I did." I wanted to elaborate but my brain was too busy thinking about how random this whole think was to think of something clever to say.
"Aren't you going to ask me anything?" There was no smirk on his face. Usually they twist their faces up into a disgusting smirk that all but says Aren't I Cute? This one wasn't smirking. I found his expression of genuine concern almost as disturbing as the smirk. " You really can ask me anything."
"What do you think I should know about you?"
"I love coffee but sometimes it makes me sick."
I think we were supposed to fall in love, but when I noticed that he was drinking a large coffee I left. I didn't want to see him get sick.