I am being followed...

and not in the digital sense. Someone is following me. Physically. A person, male, with dark glasses and darker clothes, a hood encompassing his face, casting it in shadow, hiding any distinguishable features. Nondescript. Unidentifiable. Except for being a man of considerable height and build. He is not far from me right at this moment. I can see him in my periphery, hear a rustling, smell a conglomeration of strong cologne and sweat. He is holding a paper cup of coffee from one of those vending machines, which dispense those cups with the playing cards on them. He is holding almost a straight, seven through Jack, with the eight missing, and he hasn't taken a sip. And though I cannot see his eyes through his glasses, I know they are fixed on me, and he is making note of everything I do. I must lose him. What does he want? Who is he? Maybe if i turn my head, pretend he isn't there. Maybe if I look directly at him...