"Some milk," he points, showing he knows the way to go, then gestures to the aisles, all the while still looking at the guy, "--browsing. Seeing what's new in. Speaking of, you the new guy? 'Cause I have a tab with the owner."

It's not often that he's felt in the mood to make a joke, but he'll take this moment, apparently. The set-up calls for it, a small smile playing on his lips. Plus, when's he ever going to get to say he has a tab and sound like a rich prick off TV?

Guess there's one good thing about being trapped in a hell city.