"Well, you know, taste is like the butt. Divided," Dylan quips. Which is definitely not the stupidest thing he's ever said, but he does realise it sounds weird. "Sorry, I read that in a book somewhere."

He too is thankful for elevators. Especially after a summer with zero elevators, and then being awake for... way, way too long.

"Oh, right, cool. Sure. I'm in, uh..." he says, then stops, like his mind just bluescreened. He stops and turns around a little, trying to orient himself. "It's on the left side - uh, the, whatsit, the port side of the ship. I'm pretty sure."