"I only ask 'cause you treated the spoon so gently." He picks up another one, taps the condiment tray with it. "It won't break, you don't have to worry about that. The glasses and bottles, sure, but not the spoons and forks and knives."

At least the trappings of a place like this are familiar as frak to him. Seeing as how he's spent a disproportionate amount of time on the road, stopping in at whatever bar or restaurant was available.

"I've been here a couple months. Maybe a little more. I don't know, it's easy to lose track of time when there's not a whole lot of reason for keeping on top of it." And time being relative and all... "Sometimes the days go by real fast, and other times they inch along. But if I could leave, I would. Door hasn't been kind enough to open for me, not once. Everyone says it'll happen eventually, so I'm doing my best to be patient."

Yeah. That's about it.