He had a habit of thinking everyone was from his world and assuming they knew what he was talking about, which, of course, was rude and thoughtless but that was part of GOB's charm. He WAS rude and thoughtless, though genuine and without much malice. It was partially because he was tone deaf and partially because he was an idiot. He shrugged and explained, "Cornballs are like fried dough made from corn meal. My dad sold a machine called the Cornballer back in the day except it go oil too hot and was prone to burning people, so it was banned from sale in the US. Cornballs were pretty good though," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders again. "Anyway, the only thing my sister Lindsay could make was hot ham water and the only thing my mother could make was martinis, so thankfully we had a maid and cook, otherwise we would have starved."
He watched her struggle with her hair for a minute, his elbow outstretched, before he thought better of it. "Do you need help, or something?" he asked, way too late, as she had already gathered her hair in the other arm and taken his elbow. He was slow on the uptake, after all, though he was at least trying. "Oh, and a cab is just a car for hire. To get us to the boat faster. You'll see," he said, leading her outside. "And I don't get a lot of things here either, so you're definitely not alone."
A cab was waiting for them outside the tower and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least some things were going right.