"Highway robbery, I say!" Bobby said without looking up from his phone. Instagram, you see, was very important business. Bobby, himself, was seated on a bench reserved for bored husbands, boyfriends, and children. At the moment? Bobby was neither. No, instead Bobby was held hostage by someone who was supposed to be his friend, but instead was subjecting him to torture. Abandoned on his own while she convened with her snapchat and instagram in the dressing room, Bobby did his best to find some semblance of fun. It was hard. Sitting still was never one of Bobby's strong suits.
With a sigh, he glanced up, finally before he let out a small shrug. "Cute but not worth the 80 dollars," he replied and went back down to his phone. Was it rude? No. She didn't want to spend the 80 dollars anyway, so why not help her make the right choice? Had his friend chosen to heed his input perhaps he'd be back out on the streets drinking a nice fruity drink that would inevitably find him in a sugar coma once he was home. But alas, he was trapped with no escape. What was the world coming to when your friends had little regard for others? Maybe Bobby needed to pick better friends. If Kitty was here, she'd at least pretend to listen to him.
Meanwhile, Jean would just invade his mind and talk about something he didn't want to talk about. That's why he didn't go shopping with Jean. Because she picked some of the most horrible things and it inevitably turned into a: "Bobby I know what you really think so stop lying" kind of conversation and nothing good ever came from a conversation that ended with: "It does make you butt look big." Because even telepaths didn't want to hear that.