The roof at eight, and Garbhan has taken his jacket off and put it over the parapet like a man claiming a table.
"He got here first,"
he says, before you are through the door.
"I know he did. He always gets here first. He thinks it's a personality."
He hands you the bad coffee from the corner place, already cold, and then does not know what to do with his hands.
"Right. So. This is the part where I make a joke."
He looks at you.
"I've got about four. None of them are good."
He takes his jacket off the parapet, holds it up, and waits with it, which is apparently the joke he decided not to make.
"Put it on or don't. But I'm not going to be the one who leaves it up here again."