Giles does not, in fact, have the first idea what an anime is, but all the babble runs together after a point so he mostly doesn't care. He nods along in the way of someone humoring a panhandler they do not intend to give money to. Or a raving madman who ought to be escorted gently, so he won't snap at the first sudden move.

It's really very difficult for his expression to be more deadpan unimpressed, but somehow he manages. It's a true talent.

"I'd rather see my collar unmolested for five entire minutes." Given that he just recently had a-- werewolf? someone he could have dropped had it been a proper fight, but not in a crowd-- tangling an unwashed hand in it not an hour previous. But he settles further on his edge of the bench, tips his head as if in consideration. Why not: there's nothing better to do. "Do you think the wasteland would be quiet, though? It might be rather worth it."