Declared:
This thread is for the sort of people who go to colleges and sit in the cafeteria dining area, waiting. They are reading a manga novel. Involuntarily, their eyes rise up from above the top of the novel, subconsciously scanning.
They are waiting for a female Japanese student to sit down at their table. And Lord, sweet Lord, when their lucky day comes - please give that student the strength to get up and walk away, consequences be damned. Because she will be in for the most excruciating time of her life.
These people will engage these poor students in conversation. They will drone on about how they have studied Japanese since 1989, and give a demonstration of this. They will talk about how they can write the language, and offer up a demonstration.
With a smile, they submit their demonic script up for the poor girl's approval. Maybe she can make out the message (usually, it is "kawaii" or "this is written Japanese!"). The torment does not stop there. They will talk about how they can read the language. And demand to demonstrate this.
These poor girls did not come to this university to write in Japanese. Especially not for thirty to fourty year old male strangers. But write they must. Both etiquette and fear demand it. The comment is written. The man will read it out loud, translate it, and smile at this poor trapped girl. He is like a puppy, waiting for a pat on the head. He may ask, did I get it right? His voice is calm, with a hint of forced pleasantness about it. All the girl can do is fake a sincere laugh of happiness at his linguistic prowess.
Sir! Stop it! She is not interested in you! All she really wants is to do is drink her coffee, have a bite to eat, and maybe read the paper until the next class starts or her friends show up or she has to catch the bus. She doesn't really want to listen to you calmly gush about your dubious accomplishments. She has a whole nation she can and probably will go back to. What you are offering is nothing special to her.
Watch this situation progress. He is talking about how much anime he has seen. She doesn't care about this. It isn't impressing her. It doesn't impress most people. He will ask her if she likes anime. She will give a non-commital yes. She might feverishly wrack her brain, trying to remember a series she saw when she was six years old. Six years old, sir. It has easily been over ten years since she might have even cared about anime. Mister, why do you persist in this?
Finally, some law of the universe comes into effect, and dictates that the conversation must end. He says he's "always here" (which is true - how he earns a living is a mystery) if she wants to ever talk again. She quickly shakes her head, gives a quick and near-stammered parting statement, and leaves.
He will never talk to her again. He may never see her again in the cafeteria. If she does appear, she won't acknowledge his presence at all. Deep down, he knows why this is. But he won't do anything about it. There is manga to read, anime to watch, Japanese girls to torment with his creepy inanity. Maybe he just enjoys this game, on a subconscious level. Or maybe he is no longer the one rolling the dice.
I watched this occur several times. I wish I did something about it.