How not to make friends

I ask a 30-something guy waiting for the same bus as me about a certain location in Beirut today. Big mistake.

Him: What do you want to do there?

Me: Just go there.

Him: Where are you from?

Me: South Africa.

Him: South Africa, as in the country?

Me: Yes.

Him: The place where they had the World Cup?

Me: Yes.

Him: What are you doing here?

Me: Hum shim el hawa (thanks for that, Greek sista!).

Him: How long are you staying?

Me: A month.

Him: When did you arrive?

Me: Last month.

Him: So you're here for the summer?

Me: Yes.

Him: You've been going to the beach?

Me: Yes.

Him: Are you here alone?

Me: No.

Him: So you're here with family?

Me: Yes.

Him: With your children?

Me: No (I hide my empty wedding-ring finger).

Him: Where are you staying?

Me: Beirut.

Him: Do you have Lebanese origins?

Me: No.

Him: So who's Lebanese in your family?

Me: My aunt.

Him: What's your name?

Me: Alice.

Him: I'm Hisham. Tsharafna (he extends his hand to shake mine). Alice, do you have a contact number.

Me: Yes, but I don't give it out.

Him: Oh, okay. So are you on Facebook?

Me: Yes, but I don't give it out.

Him: That doesn't matter. I'll just look up Alice.

The bus finally arrives and there's no avoiding sitting next to him, thanks to the strategic empty seats. He hands me his business card and I jump off at the next stop. I'd rather walk in the midday heat than make this new friend.