Dale continued to fake-clean the counter long after Tina had left, with a sort of 'what the hell' expression that he couldn't seem to shake off. After a while he worked up the nerve to do something that he wasn't used to doing. With no one coming in ordering since the morning rush, he grab himself some lunch- a ham sandwiched with tomatoes and pickles and a cream soda- and walked over to the table where Bryan had just flopped down. He hated himself for it, but he was trying to think of what Conner would do; Conner, who seemed to be able to let the most contentious of issues roll off his back, who could make anyone feel comfortable just by talking to them in a soothing voice. It didn't matter how Dale said something though, it just always seemed to come out socially inept.
"Uhm, hey. I'm sorry about that thing before...? Can I join you, or am I cruising for a bruising?" He laughed awkwardly.