"If Roy was tempted anything, it was David Bowie. More specifically, David's package in the gray leggings. Special delivery!" He couldn't help himself, he'd laughed. Yes, at his own joke. Why? Because he thought it was damn funny. How long does it take to make an Americano? It's just three shots and water, he'd thought. Mentally multi-tasking. He knitted his brow as expertly as a lil' ol' lady, and watched the one, fervently working employee. Faster, pussycat.
"I'm glad I came here, and that you're here. That everyone's here. Wanna know what I think is pathetic? When humans, among friends, have their pitiful fights. The petty ones. The ones that wedge emotion between them. Emotion, although invisible, is very palpable, I get that. But when you shut someone out of your life that you knew... forever. It's like telling them you're dead to them. It's such a cowardly, girly thing to do."