"Alright," comes the easy answer and for the briefest of moments, Bob's gut unclenches at the thought of getting a drink. He's even got an offer of his own on the tip of his tongue until he remembers--

"I'd offer to buy you a drink but... I'm skint. Pockets are empty."

He's already gotten the memo from the townsfolk that the expectation is he'll find work and he does intend to. But he's barely been here five minutes so that's still on the old to do list.

"So maybe I can add a different kind of bonus, yeah?"