Good luck with the aliens? He was one of these aliens.
"Good luck getting out," Cloud said to him, anyway, and he got up to his feet as he walked towards the smaller man with low thuds while he slipped out his wallet from the back and slid out his calling card which he offered later to the man. It was white and plain, holding nothing beyond his name, his business address and contact number.
"This sounds strange but when you get out, I'd like to ask you to ring me up." Cloud's face was completely flat as he said that. If this man who was not from New York could get out, then there might be hope. Given, he was from the same year 1964 and that doesn't exactly apply to him.
But if he ends up stuck like him...well...Cloud wasn't going to be sad.