"It comes off when it's just a bit," he replied, having been familiar with at least a little by now. It wasn't like he could go around swinging bats at zombies and not expect at least a little bit to get on him. Nothing he couldn't just wipe away carefully later. He'd remember to pick up a Tide-to-Go pen before he left the building. Not ever ashamed at showing off when he owned nice things, he let her feel the material well enough before pulling his arm away. "That's why I bought it. You should've felt my cashmere sweaters." He sighed at the thought, remembering how he had forced himself to leave all of his winter clothes back up north. It seemed like a silly idea to drag them down south. Even if it got chilly, it wasn't like he didn't have a few good jackets.
Turning finally, he started walking toward the electronics again. Though he knew that the one he perhaps saw was down for the count, he wasn't ready to believe that there were no more to be found. He kept himself ready to swing again. "I'm-- I was the principal percussionist for the New York Philharmonic. I wasn't aware they had anything besides the country genre in Iowa."