He steps inside, shrugging one shoulder. "I was trying to get ahold of you last week, but...I think it was an event. No matter what I did--" No luck. The sight of the puppies never fails to bring a smile to his face, and now is no exception, though it's a particularly weak example.

He keeps his eyes on them--they're such a convenient focus when one is feeling awkward--and tries again:

"There was--there was a--"

Too direct. Take it from another angle. His shoulders hunch further forward, and his hands are clenched tightly enough at his sides to pale the knuckles and make the tendons stand out.

"I can't stand this place anymore. It's making me crazy."