"Kind favor, that." Was all Zander would comment on. It wasn't that he lacked compassion or empathy for others it was just that he himself was also private. And unless the man was drunk or asking for it...well, there was no need to press for more conversation.
At least this sort of conversation wasn't about who was fucking who or a half assed embezzlement opportunity from humans. And with someone not from America, which didn't always matter, but in a sea of them...lexicon was lexicon.
"You work in the bookstore, then?" That was a given, the gargoyle idly ran the towel over the counter to give it a dry shine before placing it in the dirty throw bin. He considered finding out a lot on people based on the books they gave out. "That may even be more telling than what they can spill when their drunk. Usually just nonsense and who knows if it's the truth...but books." A fellow observer, in good company.