He means well. The staff never warned me, but watching them and him interact you figure it out.
He's apologized, it's not Alfred Hitchcock I remind him of, it's Alfred the butler to Batman, he was a bit confused but I seem like the guy who would organize and rule over the gadgets department. And he's sorry he misread me, he thought when I started that for some reason I, like him, was deeply spiritual, but if I'm not that's OK too, and I assure him that I'm not in the least and that it's OK with me.
Tonight he's taking notes.
He's grabbed a pad of paper from the waiter's station, glances at me every few minutes, then scribbles on a piece of paper and puts it in his pocket.
Secretive.
And I think to myself what a great idea this is and so I grab a pad of paper as well and begin my scribblings too....