A brief thought of the magnetic attraction of the place's cafe mochas pops into his mind. It's an amusing image, and his mouth quirks a bit. The spirit, for his part, is sulking at the table, having been shot down by the one guy actually paying him any attention.

The sheepish look gets stronger. "Aw, come on. Maybe it's just a world difference. You were damned powerful --" He cuts himself off, facepalming a bit. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to... well anyway, I don't know. I'm just happy doing what I'm doing without getting TOO powerful." He shrugs.

A look of concern crosses his face. "Off-balance? Things haven't been out of place at your home, has it? Maybe I should take a look sometime, make sure everything's all right," he says.