Simply to call me out on calling him out seemed like. He came across as fishing to see who I was and what I was about. We didn't talk much. I stood my ground, so he left after a couple of minutes. I've never had to deal with someone that brazen before, to just show up like that. He even called me by my first name in a text message, which was my clue that he googled my number.
It sounds like he himmed and hawed and stammered around before working up the courage to call you out. What a dork.
Back in the old "Recycler" days (late 1990s), I had a shingle out for building and repairing amps and Hi-Fi stuff in my garage. I ran an ad in the Recycler.
I had this guy show up, "Little Steven" bandana, eye mascara caked on, big loop ear rings. Drove up in a 1965 Dodge van, crap and trash, old sandwiches etc on the dash. Had a Dean Markley 50 W tube amp that needed repair. He left it, I checked it out. Burned grid resistor, easy fix. Called him up to come get it. $50 bench charge. He shows up, loved the repair price, wanted to contract me for further work.
Here's where the fun starts.
He claimed that "since carbon was the root of all evil and destroying the planet" he wanted me to swap out all carbon resistors and carbon pots (a metal wiper on the carbon, etc) for metal film resistors and "non carbon pots". Then he launched into a tirade again about how carbon is the the stuff of the devil, hell is full of carbon, carbon is some sort of evil plot to kill us all..
I raised an eyebrow and smirked. I said "You know that everything on earth is carbon-based, don't you? Even YOU are carbon, when you get right down to it."
He freaked out, his eyes got wide, he started spitting and blubbering under his breath. ..In my garage. I had to laugh openly at him. He was friggin' ridiculous. Between chortles and guffaws I took a book of matches, lit the whole thing and waived it at him "ooh, carbon! oh no!!" I said.
He lowered his head but looked up at me, with a guttural growl.
"yooooouuuu!! yoouuuu" he growled, and came at me.
It was like a tiny, freaked-out Little Steven from the E Street Band attacking me. I couldn't help but laugh as I moved away from him. He had his hands out like some sort of 1950's wrestler pose. What a joke. I picked up a chunk of galvanized pipe standing against the wall and motioned in a jab at him. Told him to get the hell out of here. He fell on his ass, got up, got scared and ran to his van at the curb. I carried his amp out saying "don't forget your amp, you friggin' weirdo". Of all things, he got flustered and managed to flood the van. Wouldn't start. There's "Little Steven" pumping the throttle frantically and cranking it for all it's worth. I went back in my garage and watched. He finally got it started, got out, with lightning speed he grabbed his amp, threw it in the van and sped out of there. But not before I hollered out "You're belching carbon out the tailpipe"..