Young Japanese man with very thick accent approaches each table in turn. He bows and introduces himself and then produces an incomprehensible spiel. Confronted with blank stares, he proffers that he is asking for donations to "Fight... Crime."
I decline, as does each person in turn around the patio. His response is a long quiet disturbing stare, followed shortly by effusive thanks and more bows.
Bonus points: he arrives at my table just as I am finishing Borges' retelling of the story of the 47 Ronin.