Making organic conversation

I've made a new friend at the organic supermarket and he is just revolting. Short, pony tail, totally crunchy. Lately he's come in during every shift I work and tried to make conversation with me, which is typically initiated by a comment on what I'm wearing.

Thursday, leopard-print shirt:
Him: I like your shirt. It's wild.
Me: Okay.
Him: Are you a wild girl?
Me: No.
Him: Are you, like, a tame girl on the outside and a wild girl on the inside?
Me: Hmm, not really. No.
Him: Are you just a good girl?
Me: Sir, are you paying by cash or card?

Saturday, blue beaded dress I got for $15 at Kmart:
Him: I like your dress.
Me: Okay.
Him: You look like a goddess.
Me: Okay. (I don't understand why a monotonous "okay" and a death stare isn't a sufficient conversation-ender with these people. On we go...)
Him: Do you like this song? (The store is playing Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah.")
Me: Not really. I think it's depressing.
Him: Really?
Me: Yeah, I think it's, like, music you slit your wrists to.
Him: No, really? I think it's really beautiful. I think it brings me back to Earth...really grounds me.
Me: Okay.
Him: Are you serious about not liking it?
Me: Is there an element of this to not be serious about? Uh, I guess I'm just really tired.
Him: Were you out late last night?
Me: Nope. Cash or card?

Then he paid, gave me his receipt upon which he drew a heart, a peace sign and a smiley face and bounced out of the store. My next customer was J. Stiles. I looked her right in the eye and told her that I liked her blouse, which wasn't true; I didn't have strong feelings either way. I just wanted to make conversation to let her know that I knew she was famous but that I didn't care. She didn't care, either. We're both at the end of our respective careers, spending time in an overpriced grocery store with a bunch of Tompkins Square Park vegetables and Union Square fruits.