So the choice is between something that'll cloud his mind rather than sharpen it, and something 'weird.' Can't even get actual tobacco here. That rankles on a more familiar level.

"Something weird would be par for the course," he acknowledges, letting his shoulders roll back slightly as he adopts a posture that isn't quite so stiff. He glances down the stairs -- saw something that looked like a chemist's a block back.

"Morning," he says, by way of good-bye, before he starts to step away.