"I kinda figured, but you never know with this place... It could be some Nightmare on Elm street shit." And he spins to search the room for any booths that look suspiciously striped. He was totally kidding, but hey- if it'd possible anywhere, it'd be here. He doesn't see anything, though, and so he snorts, drumming his fingers against the countertop as he slouches down into his chair for maximum dream comfort.

"And it totally is, yo... But this doesn't count." His fingers slow just a bit and he looks away, just for a second before rearranging his features into something less... Incriminating? Open? Honest? None of that in here, no sir.

"Whatever, man, what's good in here? It's your house, got any recommendations?"