"And you get to see this whole other layer to it too," Much said, folding his arms on the bar again and leaning up on his toes. "Y'know, whenever I'm heading up West 133rd street I think about that band you said you saw there, the jazz guys? I know I can't see them or hear them or anything but I still think... I dunno, it's really cool to know that they're there, and like, still doing something they love, you know?" There was an element of sadness to it too, though, one that Much felt twinge for a moment, but he brushed it aside, not wanting to drag the conversation down, even though he'd been the one to bring up ghosts... "If I was a ghost," he added, with a lighter grin. "I'd make the most excellent pickpocket you have ever seen."