History of bad dates Part I

Everything was going fine, we were having a good time eating Chinese food and taking the bus around town. He even grabbed a cookie for me for the road on the way out of the lecture, and at dinner served me only the prettiest, juiciest pieces of garlic eggplant. My mother taught me to be a sucker for such things.
Back at my apartment we're still having a good time for a while. He excused himself to make phone calls, but took other phone calls in my presence. If he hadn't been friends with my friends I probably would have thought he was a con artist or a drug dealer or something.
We're still hanging out, and all of a sudden without provocation he gets weird and distant. He says he has to go but doesn't leave. I offer to walk with him to BART since I didn't know if he knew the way, but he doesn't answer, just spaces out.
My roommate was in the hallway witnessing this, making wtf faces at me, which I made back at her. Neither of us knew what his deal was. Then another of his friends calls and he says, "Yeah, I'm trying to leave...unsuccessfully." Who's making you stay, buddy? I offer again to give him directions or walk him to BART. He says a few incoherent things but evades explanation when we ask him, and then babbles unintelligibly in Latin. My roommate and I exchange more wtf looks.
Finally he asks me to walk with him.
At the BART station he says, "We could do this again...go to lectures and hang out."
Yeah, we could. "Sure, yeah. You don't have to feel obligated or anything," I said.
"Of course not," he says. He kisses me goodbye and leaves.