Sometime between now and the last time he had decided to be a communist. He didn't remember why or when, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he had printed up some leaflets at the copy center all about what communism meant to him and that sort of thing, and he was waiting for the right person to come into the restaurant so that he could practice his speech. He ran through the lines in his head and fidgeted with the papers in front of him that said PLEASE STOP BEING EXPLOITED. He imagined what it would be like when he went to a meeting of the other communists and told them about how he had spread the word so well. They would probably shower him with praise and gifts, and make him their leader. And then he would really start getting things done...

Then the problem happened. Just as the first potential convert came in and found a seat, his waitress brought him his meal. It seemed rude to let the food get cold, and besides, he was hungry. So instead of converting him, he just stared at the side of his head for a while and ate. The man didn't seem very convertable anyway. Maybe after he was finished eating he could make the flyers into paper airplanes and use them to scare pigeons in the park.