To be fair, Richie was always ready with a joke, especially when faced up against something he was scared of, so that wasn't much of a litmus test. But in this instance, no there wasn't much to be having a fit about beyond the normal every day existential crisis sort of stuff.
He twitched a grin over the compliment, toothy enough to show gums and for some crow's feet to make an appearance and then blew upward to relocate a bit of hair, like maybe he was showing off.
Richie had never gotten much practice flirting in before now.
"Oh. Shit. I'm sorry," he said, losing that smile and thinking only of the cistern, back home. Of Eddie's body, they'd left there and the fact that Stan had slit his wrists in the bathroom. Yeah. He understood losing a friend. Some of his only friends, in fact. "I --uh. Richie Tozier?" He repeated, as if Dan hadn't heard his name already. "I'm a comedian. I tell. Y'know. Jokes."