It was fortunate for Gor that she didn't touch him; it would have roused him from his daze and sent him into a panic that, more than likely, would have ended badly.
"Mostly beverages and condiments," he answered, thoughtlessly skimming the contents lined neatly on the shelves in front of him. "Um, food-wise. Hot dogs. Some sandwich meat...stuff." Pickle loaf and olive loaf, to be precise. Not liking the looks of such things, he moved on to the rest of the fridge. "Um, mostly processed things, you know? I think the real food is kept in the walk-ins. You know, the things for people who can actually cook?" That...wasn't him.
Reaching inside, he plucked a soda from the shelf.