Ron was, obviously, there for the entertainment portion of the meal. He'd entered the diner, spotted the table in which all of his friends were located, and started off in that very direction to join them. But, halfway there, Ron somehow managed to run straight into a waitress who was hauling a tray of hot plates out to table and successfully created such a diversion that he had to run to the bathroom and clean off a combination of spaghetti and something funky with cheese before he was actually able to awkwardly slide into one of the chairs opposite his best mate.
Upon doing so, he couldn't help but take note of the waitress glaring at him from across the room. Brilliant. Just brilliant. Ron was fantastic at making new friends. Sighing, he sat along with the bunch and tried to casually joke on about what had happened with his grand entrance and, of course, about Harry's age. It was still odd, having a mate that was twice as old as he was, but Ron was trying to stay positive about it all. He was still Harry, after all. Sort of.
"Right then, old man," Ron started, leaning against the table as he spoke, "I say you and me head out to the nearest club and have at whatever lucky bird comes our way, eh?" He grinned, then glanced over at Ginny and shrugged. "Or, you know...not."