@winedarken : lemony snicket demanding jon speaks louder.
The clock on the dinner marks three forty-three, a time two minutes too early or three minutes too late, depending on your situation. In my situation, the man in the booth behind mine had been late. There could be two reasons for this: that he was not the man I had been expecting so when he arrived was possibly relevant to his situation but entirely independent of mine, or that he was the man I was expecting and when he arrived should make me sorely disappointed in him (disillusioned, dissatisfied.)
And it would make it harder for me to find him entirely trustworthy. As any sensible person knows, all means of transportation will become irremediably (disparagingly, incurably) faulty, delayed, or stuck when it is extremely important for you to be on time. You must always calculate walking distance and then be prepared to walk it knowing you will most likely trip and fall into a pit that you’ll need to be pulled out of by a passerby with enough rope, strength, and, primarily, good manners. Sensible people trust one another exclusively – otherwise, there would be no sense.
The two minutes go by, and I take the scheduled sip out of my peppermint tea. A cue for a specific phrase to be said. The man mumbles something about a trombone, halfway confirming my suspicion that he is who I was expecting, while not. I think of sighing but don’t. The last thing you should do when you’re on the fence about trusting someone is to let them know you’ve put it up and between.
‘My aunt doesn't play the xylophone’ I say. What I am really asking is for him to repeat himself more clearly so I can be certain.