So, not a prank then. Or not - well, Daniel is assuming this is in good spirit. Though he still doesn't understand why this man's attention is suddenly being directed at him. Short of being a nuisance for the employees, he's not exactly much to look at. Really, he's pretty much the equivalent of a wet stray dog - academically, metaphorically, and only a rearrangement of skeletal structure away from that being literally as well.

He'll accept the coffee. Assuming it's, well, in good spirit.

"Oh, uh." Daniel rubs at his nose nervously as he glances down at his bags, offering a tiny attempt at smile to the floor. It comes out as a pained, self-deprecating little wince. "Got kicked out. Couldn't keep with the rent."

God, he can just feel himself sinking into his seat as he says it. Triple PhD., and the world should be his to discover. The success stories seem to neglect any mention of what happens when no one likes your theories, when being friends with the landlord doesn't save you from becoming the problem tenant, when you don't even have a parent's house to fall back on due to early childhood tragedy. He's technically an archaeologist, even if by now it's only in title and no longer in practice - he should have legal rights to allowing the earth to swallow him up when the situation badly calls for it.