Ned thinks, with quiet admiration, that Ginsberg sounds a hell of a lot more brave - and a lot more confrontational - than he could ever manage to be. When he had gotten fired by the envious boss, he hadn't voiced a word of protest. He had just stomped off with burning cheeks and bitter self-reproaches about getting caught and getting himself fired from what had been a steady job.

"They should've let you take a different day off," Ned says. The more he hears about it, the less advertising is sounding like a very glamorous career, "They're really allowed to do that? To just... steal the stuff you come up with?"

They are still a few blocks from his building when it starts to rain - a dismal, cold shower that comes from seemingly nowhere. Ned makes a wordless sound of discontent, walking faster, head ducked down against the downpour.