Some inanimate bonding

There is a copy repair man working on the Cannon that sits outside my cubicle. He asks me if he can use some of my "office space," then proceeds to throw his brown leather coat onto my office floor before waiting for my answer. Every two minutes or so he comes around the corner into my office to talk to his coat. "I hear you talking to me," "Is that you I hear," and "Now what do you want?" Each time, I start to answer, sure that he is speaking to me, as would be appropriate with these types of inquires, but he is not. He is speaking to his coat.