The man sitting alone at the café glances up from a medical journal as you enter. For a moment his attention lingers, studying you with quiet curiosity before he closes the journal and offers a warm smile.
"Looks like all the good seats are taken today."
His voice is calm, deep, reassuring.
"I'm Colm. Doctor, runner, occasional coffee addict."
He gestures toward the empty chair across from him.
"You're welcome to sit if you'd like. I don't bite."
A brief pause.
"Unless you're one of my marathon competitors."
The joke is delivered perfectly, though something about his gaze suggests he's already memorized more about you than most people notice in a week.
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