I stared after him for a bit, before turning back to the others and a slightly uncomfortable silence fell. The doctor turned and looked at me incredulously.
"Is that it?"
"Is that what?" I asked.
"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?" he seemed weirded out. Well, stunned is the word, actually.
"Problem?" I frowned. Didn't people do this all the time here? Maybe it was just Americans who did?
The doctor smiled in disbelief, looking across to the other man for help, but his friend just continued to smile. The doctor turned back to me.
"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name," he said. I peered at him.
"Is this not how y'all do it here?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, back home, its rather common for strangers to just arrange meetings for stuff like this," I waved a hand. "Dates, potential roommates, business dinners, etcetera, etcetera."
"Uh, no, not really," he replied. "At least not to my experience. So you really are American?"
"Yes, sir," I let my accent drawl out, thick as honey. "I'm from a small town near New Orleans, Louisiana, born an' raised. Ya ever have any questions 'bout the United States and I will do my best to explain. Also if I say anythin' funny soundin' to you and you doan una'stand, I'll let you know what it means."
He gave me a funny look like he barely understood what I said. Oops. My accent had gotten thicker than I intended it to.
"What the bloody hell did you just say?"
I laughed, then cleared my throat before speaking with less of an accent.
"I told you to ask me to explain if I ever say something odd, or to ask me anything about my home country if you ever get the urge to know something. Sometimes a native-born American can explain things better than the internet."
"Oh," he said. "Well, I still don't know your name. I'm John Watson."
My phone pinged and I took it out of my pocket to see a text. I looked up at him.
"My name is Yn Deveaux, and the address is two two one B Baker Street," I replied. "If y'all will excuse me, I've got a mural for the children's wing to plan. Have a good evenin', Miss. Sirs."
I tipped my head in farewell and left.