After collecting my tips from today and clocking out, I walk out of the coffee shop at 5:00 exactly. I look to my right and see Noah walking up the block. He catches my eyes and raises his hand to wave. I grin and start walking towards him. “So, where do you want to go?” he asks. I look around at the busy street beside us and then my eyes land on an old but neon arrow pointing at a diner down the block. “There's that diner,” I say and point behind him, “wanna go there?” “Sublime,” he says. “Sublime?” I ask as we start walking side-by-side. “Yes, sublime,” he repeats. “It means excellence or great admiration.” “No, I'm familiar with the definition, Mr. Google Dictionary,” I say and give him a smirk, “I'm just not used to people saying that word as a substitute for ‘yes.'” “Well, I guess I'm not like most people,” he replies casually and then seals his lips as if he were processing what he just said. “That kind of sounded like what a main character in a John Green book would say-.” My laugh interrupts him. “Yeah, it did. But, you're right- most people don't say ‘sublime.' Hence, you are not like most people.” “True.” He opens the door to the restaurant for me and I step inside. “But since when did it become unusual for people to say things like… ‘superb' and ‘cunning' or ‘vehement?'” Noah holds up two fingers at the waitress and she points to an empty booth next to the window. The restaurant is crammed and noisy but filled with a live environment. The walls are teal and the floors are black and white tiled squares. “Vehement?” I ask after noticing another pop-culture poster on the walls of the diner. “To show strong feelings or be passionate about something,” he explains. “Right.” I nod. “How could I forget?” “That's the thing- I can assure you more than half our generation doesn't know squat what any of these fancy words mean,” he continues. “Well, are they fancy words or just old English?” I ask. A waitress with short blonde hair drops off two glasses of water. “No, old English would be Shakespeare,” he replies after taking a sip of his water. “These words, which are outdated, are just that. I mean, if you ask a grade ten class to give you the definitions of these words-.” “Sublime, superb, cunning, and vehement?” “- Exactly- they would stare at you wide-eyed and confused,” he continues. “You might get one smart motherfucker that reads the dictionary for fun who could give you all the definitions. But other than that- zip.” “Hm, interesting.” I rest my head on my hand and narrow my eyes at his theory. “And you're that smart motherfucker?” “I think we confirmed that I'm the main character from a John Green book.” He chuckles. “Then how do you know the definitions to those outdated words?” I ask. He shrugs and sits back on his seat. “Who's to say I didn't memorize those four words to impress you?” “As if a guy would try that hard,” I remark and sit up straight again. “Never mind the fact that that's not even something to be proud of.” “Oh, yeah?” he challenges. “Memorizing a couple of definitions?” I ask. “Let me ask you a question; would you be impressed if I recited the entire dictionary to you on the first date?” A grin grows on his face. “Alright, the fact of the matter is that I didn't memorize them to impress you,” he admits. “The fact of the matter is that you use outdated words, which makes you…” “A John Green character,” he finishes. We share a smile and then pick up our menus. “The BLT looks superb,” I say softly.