Shawn stood at the front of the restaurant. He was trying to make himself look busy by glancing around the place, taking in the way it looked and, well, smelled. It wasn't working as well as he hoped, maybe, as he appeared more awkward than anything else. He couldn't help but keep looking over his shoulder, and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat. He was even slouching a bit more than usual. As he slouched pretty badly usually, it was much more prominent just now than he might have wanted.
It did come to the forefront of his mind as he was approached, and he straightened up some instinctively. Pulling his hand out of his pocket warily, he met the other man's hand to shake it.
"Uh, yeah. You mentioned an opening here to me," he said, eyeing the shorter man closely. He didn't look like he'd expect an owner to look, but he'd thought that before. Certainly, he was shorter than Shawn had expected. "Over the journals, I mean," he added on, his eyebrows furrowing at himself in frustration. It was like he'd somehow fucking forgot how to talk to normal people while away. He could talk fine to Corey, but whenever it came to anyone else, nothing ever felt quite right. It was like all of them could see right fucking through him, and he hated it. Especially when it came to job interviews and applications, where some of his past mistakes had to be written out clearly for all to see.
"I'm Shawn Maddox," he continued on after taking a moment to mentally berate himself.