The Bronxite feels awkward enough that he just has to say something. He stops entirely and twists around, looking apologetic and slightly flushed. "M'sorry. Heh, I thought you was a friend a' mine 'cause, he, uh, kinda dresses like you." A weak chuckle. "Ain't really payin' attention when I run, y'know? Guess m'brain was jus' kinda somewhere else. Sorry."