He's not surprised by her lack of good humor this morning, and is almost taken off-guard that she's not being unpleasant to him. He's angry with himself, and while he doesn't remember many of the exact details of coming back to the hotel last night, he's fairly sure it wasn't entertaining for either of them. There's embarrassment and shame written all over his face.

He moves his hands down to cover his mouth and nose, then gets out of bed, grabs some clothing out of his suitcase and heads for the bathroom. "Let's not talk about eating anything right now."

He closes the door behind him and starts the shower, and feels a little better after vomiting while waiting for the water to get warm. The shower and steam help a bit too, and by the time he's dressed he feels less like death warmed over. He makes sure his clothes are all straightened and he looks presentable before coming out.

He squints and sits on the bed opposite Barbara. "You wouldn't happen to have sunglasses, would you?"