Joey couldn’t take his eyes off the guy’s leg. Why did that guy have to constantly shake his leg? Why do people do that? Nervous energy? Does it sooth them, like playing with a spiky ball might sooth a kid with a mental disorder? It was driving Joey crazy. He couldn’t say anything because then he’d sound like an asshole. He held his hand over the right side of his face, blocking his view of the leg. But it was awkward to keep his hand there. He’d have to leave and find another table to sit at.