<table width="100%"><tr><td style="vertical-align: top; width:50%; padding-right:10px;"><span style="color: #E6E9FD"><span style="font-family: Nyala;"><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">There was good things and bad things about being consistent. Some good things were you were predictable, reliable, and easy to get to know. The bad things were you were often times caught off guard by change, you were predictable, and easy to get to know. Yes, being predictable and easy to get to know was both a good and a bad thing. Of course it was good because it was easy to know what you wanted, you didn't have to worry about whether they'd arrive on time or not because they either always arrived on time or not. It was good because it made you seem friendly and made people want to get to know you. But the bad things were people used that predictability against you and for their own needs, and most times, they get bored with you because you don't have "variety" or there isn't any "mystery". Both were stupid in the young man's  eyes, but that's how it worked. And as was, it seemed that Sylvester was starting to get fed up with his predictability.<br/><br/>Taking the small spoon that came with the green dessert, Mr. Ectar sat simply on his stool and ate, taking his time with eat almost microscopically small bite. As he quite literally chewed the ice cream, his eyes glanced around the room, especially upwards. However, his head started to do so as well, leaving him to look like he was aimlessly looking at the ceiling. However, his grin stretched from ear to ear and he only looked back down to get another scoop. His brown eyes fluttered back and forth quickly, much like Sylvester's who was focused on the game screen, following Pac-man around the board. <br/><br/> </span></span></span></td><td style="vertical-align: top; width:50%; padding-left:10px;"><span style="color: #E6E9FD"><span style="font-family: Nyala;"><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">It seemed as if both were doing well in their own adventures, but a blur passed the window and the man's face cringed. He spat out the bit of Ice cream he had in his mouth and shook his head. He spun the chair around to face the counter again and set the small cup down. The woman questioned,"Everything alright with the ice cream Mr. Ectar?" <br/><br/>Smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth with furrowed brows, he nodded,"Yeah." Gradually he stopped, and the woman merely blinked.<br/><br/>"If you want a new one, just let me know." <br/><br/>"Okay." he nodded, picking up the cup again.  She went back to tending to the small line of customers. <br/><br/>Not a lot of people turned to look as the small bell rang signifying the entrance of a new customer, but the man did, and he did so with almost excessive enthusiasm. He even shoved a large scoop of his ice cream into his mouth this time, staring at the door and bell.  A woman had walked in and started to look around. Most people didn't look around when entering a diner, but then again, he did the same thing. He smiled as he watched her enter and hearing the door close shut behind her. The more the merrier for him. He loved the bustling noise of people and whatever they talked about. It was fun to watch and listen too.</span></span></span></td></tr></table>