[Dustin is sitting in the corner booth of a small diner, dressed casually but with clean, ironed clothes that do better justice for his emaciated frame than the plantsuits. His thick, dark brown hair has been recently washed, combed as well as physically possible into neater spikes. On a related note, Dustin's also clean-shaven—albeit with as strong a five-o’clock shadow as if he'd never messed with his facial hair in the first place.
He's ordered a bottle of vintage wine, which remains uncorked for now, for the scruffy man is busy scouting out the bar near the front. If his date doesn't show—which evidence suggests she won't—then it'd be a good idea to find some other lucky woman to share lunch with now rather than later. There's a cute blond in a business suit, absently nursing a decorative beverage while gossiping with the bartender...]
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He's ordered a bottle of vintage wine, which remains uncorked for now, for the scruffy man is busy scouting out the bar near the front. If his date doesn't show—which evidence suggests she won't—then it'd be a good idea to find some other lucky woman to share lunch with now rather than later. There's a cute blond in a business suit, absently nursing a decorative beverage while gossiping with the bartender...]