Though Rorschach wasn't terrible at reading people, he wasn't the best. He wasn't entirely sure how this interview - if one could call it that - was going, as the little blonde seemed almost unreadable. Rather than dwell on his lack of knowledge, he let his gaze roam the room again. He had looked it over several times already, until it was almost committed to memory. Faces stuck in his mind, faces he couldn't forget. If he were to work here, he'd have to commit himself to remembering the customers. After all, it would be foolish not to keep these people in mind when he went out with his true face.
Hearing her place a bottle of water down on the bar, he turned back to her. When she agreed with him, he took that as a good sign. Agreement was always good. And he could do that - keep out riff-raff, keep customers safe. That didn't sound too hard.
As she asked for his name, he hesitated. He hadn't thought that far ahead. For a moment, he considered "Rory" before realizing that that would be horrifically stupid. So what other names were there? After a few moments of silence, he settled on something utterly unremarkable. "Mike," he said. "Name's Mike." He hesitated again. He needed a last name. What last names did he know? "Caulfield." Wait. There was no taking it back now. He'd have to tell Sam later that she had acquired a brother.