[ He laughs, somewhat because of the riposte, but mostly because hearing himself in context with the words "Ivy League" is hilarious in and of itself. College material he is not.

He'll start taking down mugs - he gets at least five, he doesn't want anyone to feel left out - and roll her offer around in his head. ]

Maybe I'm a secret agent. A superhero. A glutton for punishment? [ He'll try to grin, but won't really wait to see how those land. He'll sigh, actually. ] Sorry. That's not a real answer, I know.

Actually, while we're on names - [ not a purposeful swerve, this is just how his brain works ] - you're Mrs. Maisel, right? Have I been calling you by the right name?