(I’m at the library, minding my own business, when a man old enough to be my father approaches me. He’s not a total stranger; we have seen each other at the library before. We’ve even had the basic, “Hi, how’s the weather?” conversation the previous week, but nothing beyond that. Note that we haven’t said a single word to each other this day.)

Man: “Hey, here’s my number, [phone number]. And don’t forget it.”

Me: “Um… okay.”

Man: “So, what about dinner at [Local Restaurant]?”

Me: “I don’t date.”

Man: “What? Hate men or something?”

Me: “No. I’m asexual. I’m not into dating anyone.”

Man: “Oh. Coffee, then?”

(This is far from the only conversation I’ve had with men old enough to be my father. Without fail, even after telling them I don’t date, they ask me out for coffee. They don’t even seem to care enough about me to know I don’t drink coffee [I’m a tea drinker]. And this has happened over a half a dozen times.)