Alone in a motel room

Monday morning they came to take my empty stage away & put the new flooring down. ___ .sigh. & something happened that I've never experienced before. One of the workers (attractive enough w/ forearms decorated in old-school ska tattoos) & I were being personable to one another, since he was working right outside my door in a way that it had to be open. Naturally he could see all my gear, obvious love for books & art___ so he asked me questions about the art that I do, etc. No big deal. Well, as time passed I began to feel weary from lack of sleep, & needing plenty of rest for work the next day (derp today). At that point he didn't appear to need the door wide open anymore, so I pushed it to for some privacy. You're one lucky son of a bitch if you can successfully sleep w/ power tools raging right outside your door. I was able to rest well enough though, regardless. Laying on my side, not in my pajamas (instead the usual clothing, minus shoes), w/ Tibetan singing bowls playing to help me reach that extra state of calm. That is how I remained for a good half hour, perhaps a bit more. When I opened my eyes___ I noticed my door was half open, ___& the guy appeared to be working the corner where the wall meets the threshold of my door. He wasn't just working though, instead___ he was watching me as I appeared to be sleeping. Our eyes met, I didn't know what to do, so I sunk beneath my covers in order to be out of his vision. As I was sinking down to hide, he just casually turned his eyes back to his work. I waited until he was no longer in the hallway, got up, & closed my door again. Didn't know what to make of it at that moment & I still don't. There's more though___ once I thought they were finished w/ the flooring & assumed the coast to be clear, I went to step outside (it was 60 degrees, no clouds, a beautiful day to be outdoors). Turning the corner out of the hallway & into the anteroom, there he was___ sweeping. He then followed me outside, asked my name (I sure as hell didn't give him my full name), then proceeded to introduce himself by name. My discomfort level jumped up a couple notches about the time I noticed him fumbling w/ a piece of paper in his jacket pocket. He asked if I had a car, & I said no, then tried to derail him by telling him the story of what I did w/ my last car. My story didn't faze him, & that's when he pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket. Pre-written___ his name & phone number on the folded up page (the page is the diagram for the work they did on my mother's house), so___ obviously this is something he had thought about as he worked. He asked me to give him a call, that we could go get coffee together or what have you___ & that's where I go blank. I think at that point I just smiled in a perfunctory manner & walked around him & back inside.
Since the incident I have not been able to stop thinking it over. From what I have deduced based off the facts___ he's a date rapist, w/ the remaining chance that he's innocent enough & was just as awkward as I was by the end of our interaction. It's the car question___, him asking me if I have a car before giving me the piece of paper he anxiously fumbled w/ in his pocket. Why is me having or not having a car important in him asking me out? Hm? Seriously___ why is that important? That's not usually one of the first questions a guy asks me right before he takes the jump to ask me out. Not to mention the guts it would take to ask a girl out only an hour or so after her catching you watching her sleep. & just to add a little more color to this, he told me he lives in a motel room, I asked why, & he literally responded, "Got nowhere else to go."
None of these are good signs surrounding a guy asking me out. I'm not accusing him of being a date rapist, because he may be far from being such an awful type person. If anything I'm more curious as to what I did to make this guy think it would be okay to ask me out under such strange circumstances.