Vincent glanced at the blunt and raised his hand to decline. He didn't have anything against weed or those who smoked it, he just wasn't one of them. [color=orange]"I dunno about any skateboard shop,"[/color] he responded to Cait and Anita as he pulled in front of the dented gas pump, [color=orange]"but even if they've got a mechanic, there's no way I'm letting them touch Bertha. I've been doing a good job keeping her going all this time, I don't need anyone messing with my work."[/color] To Cleome, he added, [color=orange]"I don't blame them. With how hot it's been, I'd be in hiding, too."[/color]

He climbed out of the truck and stretched his arms over his head with a groan. After sitting so long, he was eager to move around. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the front of the truck as he looked around. He spotted the two vehicles, visibly recoiling when he saw the paint job on the Jeep, and glanced into the diner, where he saw what he assumed were the owners of said vehicles, the pair chatting away like they knew one another. It was such a peaceful, every day scene that he didn't feel any reason to be on guard, but he still decided that the one who can make his skin bulletproof should be the first to approach, just in case. Pushing himself away from the truck, he told his companions as he walked toward the door, [color=orange]"I'm gonna go grab some food, then I'll see about getting the AC fixed."[/color]

The door opened, accompanied by the cheerful ringing of the bell mounted on the frame overhead. The two men paused in their conversation as Vincent glanced at them, then found a seat in one of the empty booths, far from the counter.