Michael turns and frowns. This is why they usually go to dives and delis: no one bothers you in those places. “Is your timing always this bad?” he demands with thorough unfairness.
There’s something in the waiter’s eyes that asks, ’are your conversations always this weird,’ but all he says is, “Please excuse me. We’ll have your meals out shortly,” before escaping to a more predictable atmosphere.
Michael settles his chin back on Lee’s hand, watching the guy as he leaves. “Jeez,” he grumbles.