Dominic was quietly amused as Nathaniel proclaimed what must have been but a short list of the plethora of changes he needed to grow accustomed to in the States. It'd been almost twenty years since Dominic had been uprooted from his homeland, but he still remembered how strange things had seemed at first. True, it was a big help that his mother had taught her children both English as well as their native tongue, but nevertheless, moving to an entirely new country required a certain capability for adaptation. Given Nathaniel's choice of occupation, Dominic felt the displaced Englishman would get the hang of things sooner rather than later.
The other man's mention of his bewilderment concerning writing dates properly struck a chord with Dominic, though he couldn't place it as anything but relating to his own habit of requiring an up-to-date calendar (along with a planner and a notepad, if at all possible. There was no end to the stacks of lists and the such within his desk drawers.).
He grinned as Nathaniel made a self-deprecating remark, nodding in agreement. "You do sound a little like a tourist--actually, parts of Veracruz happen to be popular vacation spots. It's right along the coast, kind of like California. Plus," Dominic stated with good humor, "there's no shortage of coffee houses to be found." He wouldn't judge Nathaniel's lack of knowledge involving California; if it was his job that gave him less time to learn the local terrain more thoroughly, well. Hadn't Dominic spent many, many nights taking his own work home with him?
Dominic had noticed Nathaniel checking his phone. The man was probably itching for a good cup of tea despite his polite, friendly attitude. He'd asked directions for a reason.
"Is something wrong with your phone?" Dominic hazarded a guess, planning on reaching towards his back pocket for a pen if that was so. He could always jot down the directions he'd given Nathaniel to save the man some frustration.