He chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll live. Just gonna be sticky at work is all." Not that he wasn't going to end up with food on him at some point that evening. The perils of being a chef meant that clothes often came home with food stains on them. It wasn't the end of the world. At least he could work the washer and dryer without them constantly breaking on him. It was one of the few things he could touch without something happening and going wrong.
"Don't worry about it, really. My buddy's coffee is still good." Getting coffee thrown on him wasn't what he'd been expecting when he left the apartment but he wasn't really going to bitch about it now, in front of this girl. In the kitchen, sure, he'd complain and try not to take it out on anyone. Just because his day started off badly didn't mean it had to stay that way, right?
"Thanks," he said, taking the wet nap and wiping his hands and face. He'd always hated the way these things smelt but at least he'd be cleaner. "And I don't know about the water, and no offense, but seriously, most teenage girls are way too high strung for their own good. Doesn't seem to have changed from when I was in high school." He didn't know how someone could have blasphemous relations with a Jeep and quite frankly, he didn't want to know. "I have no idea but that chick's got an arm on her so I'd watch out."