"Hey, what can I say? Those fucked-up transport things cut down on rush hour traffic," He was assuming, of course, the guy had gotten the Wizard of Oz spiel. He was on those board things- he'd gotten here the same way, from what Cuddy had said. Those people seemed to take all this magic shit at face value.
Greg watched the guy working on setting up their lines, content to ponder over that, while he ruminated on being a former cop. A former cop who did coke, and 'went down'.
"What'd they put you away for?" It was conversational, curious at best- Greg, for once, wasn't trying to push; he didn't want to risk not getting the drugs. But if the guy was coughing up information willingly, well. Who could blame him for taking interest?