"What's so funny," he asked, looking for a fight. I had no problem with this man, and I have the soft hands of an Internet comedy writer, so I wanted to avoid a fight, if possible. I apologized and, when that wasn't enough, asked him if he really wanted to know what I was thinking. He said yes, so I told him the truth.
"Well I'm heading to my office, and I noticed that you two were both dressed in sunglasses and identical long, tan jackets, and underneath those jackets you were very well dressed. And you both walked slowly, deliberately, like ... cooly, the way cool- the way cool people walk? You walked like that, and I don't know if this was intentional or if you even noticed, but you walked in sync with each other. Like your left foot moved at the same time as her left foot, and your right feet, too, the whole ... All of them. Both of them. Your feet moved the ... same."
He stared at me, very much in the way that one man looks at another man when he says something like that thing I just said.
"So my thought," I continued, "my actual, honest-to-God thought, was 'Oh, these two are definitely assassins.' Like you were a sexy, married assassin team. I'm sorry I called you sexy. But like in my head you had guns under your coats, and you were walking in that synchronized, almost-slow-motion way that two deadly assassins would move. Like in Die Hard With a Vengeance, those two mercenaries almost never say even anything, they just wear sunglasses and nod at each other, as if to say 'Oh, we're very cool mercenaries, you and I.' And you- And so I decided you were assassins, based on all the clues. And I also decided that I was part of a special team designed to thwart you and I was ... It was my job to do recon. On you. I'm the recon guy. I also do computers, I think, but I didn't really get too far into the scenario because we ... Because you started talking to me. It was impolite and I'm sorry. It's a thing I do."
There was a very long pause.
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"Should you be wearing a some sort of helmet?"
"Are you guys assassins?"