[Eridan startles him, from his aimless daydreaming. But it doesn't take long for the customer to recover. He turns, looking up at the barista through his aviator sunglasses. The pink tint of the shades reflecting Eridan's face. He doesn't speak, not at first anyways, but instead takes the time to adjust the hood of his designer jacket. Hiding his face in a suspicious sort of way. And responds in a way that suggests he knows what Eridan is writing down.]

No. [He pauses to correct himself.] I mean, yes. I'll take a caramel on ice. Lots of sugar. And I'll take two vanilla bean teas on the go. One with sugar, one without.