After a moment I dig into Evan’s bag and pull out a handful of pretzels. “Want some?” I shake the bag next to Roman’s ear and the pretzels clatter around inside the crinkled plastic. He swats it away then grabs a handful and takes a bite of one. He grimaces and looks down at the pretzel. “The hell is this shit?” I turn the bag around and read the label. Unsalted pretzels? Why the hell bother? We both dump the food back in the bag and I shove it aside. “He’s like a cross between the village idiot and an old man.”
