James was just spitting in his hand when the door opened. He looked up with his mouth still above his hand, lips pursed, because there was a little string of salvia still connecting his mouth to his hand. He wiped his mouth with his wrist, and then quickly brought his wet hand up to his head and smoothed his hair. Then he grabbed the opening of his jacket and pulled it up around him, because it was too big and kept slipping off his shoulders. "Good evenin' good ser. Are ye Mr. Meijer?"