"9" Diner
Gaz's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the seven-foot-something Lorath bending the fork like it was made of plastic, and he took an involuntary step back. "Hey hey hey, now," he said rapidly, holding his palms up in front of him. "Didn't mean nothin', sorry, sorry."
As he backed up, his hip bumped into the seat back of a booth behind him, causing him to nearly jump clear out of his skin, barely managing to contain a short yelp of surprise as he whirled around to face the new imagined threat. Seeing no one behind him but a group of seated patrons who only looked anywhere from disinterested to mildly annoyed at the intrusion, his face flushed a far deeper shade of red in embarrassment. Turning back to Shrie and her company, he swallowed hard, trying to salvage what remained of his dignity, and nodded. "So yeah," he stammered. "I-I'll just be going now. Enjoy your meals, yeah?"
Quickly, he turned around and started pushing his way out of the restaurant as fast as he could.