The Person I'm Next To I've Talked To Once Before

I'm next to a guy, in a light blue shirt. He was wearing the same shirt a week or so ago when I talked to him before, well, when I was part of a group of people talking at him. There is a chance I'm wearing the same shirt too.
Despite being young his hair is going grey early. This would give him a refined feel except that he is one of the few people that I've seen who I would describe as snub nosed. It gives him a baby face. The result doesn't look quite right, like he was aged in a soap opera flash forward, or a bad movie about time travel.
I confess to a mild dislike for this guy, this is a hold over from hearing him speak before. We were talking about oil dependency, which is a great conversation to have loudly in a public place because everybody knows that we are a doomed race burning other doomed races and for lack of a better word that blows. So usually everybody gets on board agreeing with each other and slapping each others backs and its a harmonious if not dynamic atmosphere.
This guy doesn't agree.
Its not the why that gets me though, its the how. In the face of a roomful of people in rank and file this guy staunchly defended his point. Alone and out numbered and armed only with becauses, and I don't want my taxes going to that, this guy argued for Armageddon. But that was a week ago, now he is sitting next to me.
He is just reading now, sipping his mocha which he sets on the floor next to him, so he has to lean forward and pick it up ever few minutes. I want to shake him, I want to make him use an entable, I want to tell him he is the problem, I want to make him change his mind with logic or brain control. But I'm not.
He sips his coffee precisely ever 3 minutes, precisely. How strange.

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