[He smiles and sets his hand against his chin. Both of his hands are peppered with smallish, discolored, peach colored bandages.]

It's too clean.

[Ah yes, that old naval saw about seasoning the coffee pot by not washing it, ever. Ancient, salty folklore, maybe, but it's what he's used to. With a sweep of the hand that has just been next to his face, he continues.]

But maybe that's just how you keep the glass ones, I dunno. Figure the whole point of having a glass pot is to show off the brew. Well, that an' how much money you can drop on your setup.

[Looking intently at the carafe, he steps closer to get a better look. He scratches at his chin, thinking aloud as long nails rasp against his stubble.]

Especially real thin glass like that--that takes skills.