I emailed him my number, so he could ring me for a chat. He rang me, withholding his number. Here’s an excerpt from the conversation:
Him: “So, what do you do?”
Me: “I’m a writer and a musician. How about you?”
Him: “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, sorry. You could be a stalker or something.”
Me: “Riiiiight. Hey, for all I know, you could be a stalker too.”
Him: “I’m not”.
Me: “Well, there you go, neither am I”.
Him: “Well, I don’t know that for sure. Do you still fancy a drink?”
Me: “Are you going to tell me what your job is?”
Him: “When I meet you. I have to be sure you’re not a stalker”.
I know I should have run away at this point, and I knew I wasn’t going to be romantically interested in him, but my curiosity was piqued… What was his job? What was he hiding? I had to meet him.
Eventually we arranged a meeting place and time.
Him: “Great. I’ve got your number so if anything changes I’ll give you a call.”
Me: “Fine. What about if I have a problem and need to call you, what’s your number?”
Him: “Sorry, I’m not going to give it to you. You might be a stalker.”
Me: “But you’ve got my number.”
Him: “But I know I’m not a stalker. I don’t know about you though.”