"Oh."

He has to reorient his mind to the kind of situation he's dealing with, rewrite his half-formulated strategy on the ground. He wouldn't classify what Ginsberg's talking about as nothing happening - clearly it was something, and a big something - but what he'd been expecting had been a bit more tangible. An unusually-hurtful insult from a boss, a botched meeting with a client, a fight with his father, that kind of thing. This is both bigger and more difficult to know how to handle.

"That sounds pretty terrifying."

Ned hates towering when Ginsberg is sitting on the floor like that, looking so fragile and so far away. He sits down, too, setting the pie box between them and wrapping his arms around his knees, not near enough to Ginsberg to be threatening.

"They might have been making theirs up?" But Ned knows that suggestion will solve little to nothing, mentally pinches himself for being inept at this. This isn't about his coworkers and their ability to paste themselves into that picture of happiness, family values, and ketchup. It seems to be about the fact that Ginsberg can't. He recovers as best as he can, "Did they bug you about it?"