The atmosphere changes entirely when the man's expression becomes grave. Ritchie's no champion of any kind of physical alteration, but he does have his pride. As much as his impulses scream and urge him to back down, his ego quashes the urge.

"I'm looking for something specific. It's not here. I have a right to voice my dissatisfaction."

Admittedly it's a bit of catharsis to say his dilemma out loud. The ears belonging to this audience, however, are unproductive. This guy hasn't even given a reason for being here, let alone why he thinks he runs the damn place.

"If you want quiet, just take your book home. Goddamn fascist."