Bruegger’s Bagels, Squirrel Hill.
A grizzled man with a salt-and-pepper face-stache sits at a table by himself with his bagel, muttering to himself and staring ahead at the window:

Muttering Man: I can tell you to shut up anytime I want, punk. Yeah, I called you a punk. What’re you gonna do about it?

— Overheard by zig