Reese removes her sunglasses, slipping them into the pocket of her jacket - taking care to not crush them as she places said jacket over the back of her own chair.

The place itself gets a quick survey; she may or may not be comparing it to anything you'd be likely to find in L.A. and coming up with nothing.

The mention of grease, unsurprisingly, earns a brief wrinkling of the nose.

"Oh, yum," she mutters, low and under her breath.