His face twisted in frustration, not necessarily directed towards his neighbor, at least not for long, and he let out a sigh. And then, as the heat from the burst of emotion started to dull he seemed to gain awareness of how he'd rushed at her, and there was a moment of tenseness as he returned the cautious look, and took a half step back.
"...S'fine," he muttered with a frown, and he palmed the back of his neck in consideration. He looked to the only other thing he had to offer, the bottle of rakija in a paper bag. He wouldn't mind a long swig of that right now. But a thought occurred to him, and he shifted his grip on the neck, bracing for a shock. He pushed the heel of the bottle into the button and held it.
There was more silence, and then finally- '"--For love of-- is the god damn thing busted again??"' issued from the speaker.