The coffee is undrunk, the mugs pilling up wherever Ryan leaves them. The waiter doesn't break his cycle, except for a few spare moments when Ryan addresses him each day in a deep baritone version of his voice, singing crackily:

"....far away...wake...."

"...nd still those...."

"voices.....are callin from...."

"....the night.....just to hear them say"

"....you....the middle...."

And on one memorable moment, a guitar riff comes from his mouth, playing for about 4 seconds.