He had the feeling someone was staring at him, sure. And Germ was obviously looking this way every time Phoenix looked around the diner. But that didn't mean that he was being watched. No, of course not.
(I think Pat is starting to rub off on me. I need to start hanging around better influences.)
Then, as if the universe loved proving Phoenix's inner monologues wrong, the bird-man who had been looking at him suddenly popped over the back of his chair. Phoenix nearly choked on his milkshake, and man would that have been embarrassing.
"I-I, ghak, what?!" Phoenix leaned away from Germ as if he was an actual germ. He even slid his shake further away, as if the bird would try and steal it. Is that what a day of being paranoia-adjacent does to people? Make them actual paranoid?
Steeling his nerves, Phoenix settled, shifting his seat a bit to the side so he wasn't stabbing Germ in the face... beak?... with his hair. "Erhm, right. A case." Phoenix paused. Why was he so willing to tell some stranger about one of his cases? Didn't that break some, like, client/attorney protocol? He might've just been wanting to have a normal conversation for the day, one that didn't involve government conspiracies. Or fish. Or fish conspiracies.
Clearing his throat, Phoenix filled the silence. "Well, uh, this one time I had a client whose case against them was about how he could fly, and how nobody could've committed the crime without...flying." (Oh, now I know why lawyers don't discuss their cases. It makes them sound crazy.)