Matt glances down at his shirt, though he already knows what's on it. It's a comfort, in a way, to have something so small confirmed. He's heard you can't read in dreams.

"Yeah," he agrees, giving his new acquaintance a once-over. He smiles at him again; in the face of Eames', Matt can't not. "Uhh, late '90s I think, which ... is circa, so, right on." His smile widens, sheepish. "I'm a late adopter. Didn't hear about them until I visited."

A pause.

"Hey, uh. Do you happen to know what's going on here?"