Bus Report #771

One morning, a couple weeks ago, the man who always tries to talk to me but who I never understand, sat beside me on the 22 and started asking me questions, or at least, I think he did.
I smiled, shook my head. "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't understand."
He nodded. He sat back and took his phone from his pocket, and started typing away.
I thought he might be doing a translation program, and as he kept typing, I wondered what he was planning to ask me.
A moment later he held up his phone. Instead of a long list of questions, there was just one English word on the screen, and that word was 'arrive'.
"You arrive?" he asked.
"At work?" I asked. "What time do I arrive at work?"
He nodded. I told him I usually get to work a little before eight, so I can have some time for a cup of coffee before everyone else shows up. He nodded again. Bit his lip and looked like he was about to ask me something else.
Finally, he said the longest coherent string of words I've ever heard from him. "In United States, how many people drink coffee instead of tea?"
I didn't know what to say. I shrugged and lifted my thermos and said, "God, I don't know, millions and millions I guess."
He seemed satisfied with this answer, put his headphones on, and zoned out for the rest of the ride.