"I'm supposed to be on business," said Haniel, sitting down and leaning in a bit, "but, well, you know what I get like when They let me come down."

His smile was very nearly radiant, and only a last-minute dampening kept him from lighting the whole restaurant. "I feel so...out of step!" he continued. "The last time I came down everybody was wearing these absolutely ridiculous boned things that made it hard to breathe, and now they're hardly wearing anything! Honestly, Aziraphael, I don't know how you manage to keep up."

He looked around the room as he spoke, watching the humans going about their business (he gave an encouraging nod to a nervous-looking young girl in the corner with her date, and she set her jaw and laid her hand on his). "Things as usual Upstairs, of course, the Metatron's still got something up his arse, and poor Raguel's just losing his mind with all the paperwork he's having to do...I have a feeling that the Metatron doesn't like you very much, you know that? Of course, he can't do anything about it except complain, which I'm perfectly happy with, better complaining than smiting..."

It tended to be difficult to shut Haniel up once he got going.