jointstereotype: Dude.

rygar: Yo.

jointstereotype: What's up?

rygar: Just got off work. Checking my e-mail. You?

jointstereotype: Same. Been at Barnes & Noble since three.

rygar: Wait—is that you over there in the blue sweatshirt?

jointstereotype: Yeah...is that you in the tank top and baseball cap?

rygar: Yeah. I'll wave.

jointstereotype: Um, you really shouldn't do the Hitler salute in public.

rygar: That was a modified version of the Roman salute.

jointstereotype: Like that's any better.

rygar: Whatever. It's still funny that neither of us knew the other was here.

jointstereotype: Sure is.

rygar: So...

jointstereotype: So what?

rygar: You want to come over here or should I go over there?

jointstereotype: Why?

rygar: I dunno. Seems like the thing to do when you're out and about and you bump into a friend.

jointstereotype: Hmm.

rygar: ?

jointstereotype: I'm kind of already settled in here.

rygar: It's not like you're sitting in a La-Z-Boy. There's no ass-groove to be lost.

jointstereotype: Why don't you come over to my table?

rygar: I don't like the look of that guy sitting at the table beside you. He's always peeking over your shoulder, like he's trying to see what's on your screen.

jointstereotype: He is?

rygar: Well, not anymore, now that you're giving him the evil eye.

rygar: You really should be more aware of your surroundings.

jointstereotype: Or maybe fat guys in T-shirt and cowboy hat combos should be more aware of others' personal space.

rygar: I don't know, man. Someone with his hourly pizza intake and half-assed fashion sense probably doesn't give a shit about himself or those around him.

jointstereotype: How do you know he likes pizza?

rygar: He's got that sweaty, shiny look to him, like he's running a marathon even though he's been sitting and eating brownies for the last half hour. That usually means cheese, and cheese usually means pizza. Or heavy quesadillas. Or maybe sticks of butter. I'm going to call him Fat Cowboy Hat Dude.

jointstereotype: LOL Gee, that wasn't judgmental or anything—oh God, I just heard him fart.

rygar: Dude. Get out of there while you still have the chance.

jointstereotype: But the WiFi's really good at this end of the cafe.

rygar: What's more important, Internet connectivity or your health?

jointstereotype: It doesn't smell that bad.

rygar: Bullshit. I can see you holding your sleeve over your mouth.

jointstereotype: I'm merely wiping away some remnant crumbs—

rygar: And that chick behind you just got up and left—and that dude in the Hawaiian shirt is squirming pretty good. Betcha he gets up too.

rygar: Yep, there he goes.

rygar: You're the only one left in the dead zone.

jointstereotype: Fuck it. What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger.

rygar: Is that anything like Fat Cowboy Hat Dude's credo, "What doesn't give me a heart attack only makes me fatter"?

jointstereotype: I'm going to tell him you said that.