You look like an old man who wears too much cologne and cheats on his wife and uses money he embezzles from others to buy fancy European cars, or something.

[That was needlessly specific, but it's fine. He waves a hand dismissively as he beelines for the cosmetics aisle-- luckily the same clerk from the night Akira bought concealer for Akechi wouldn't be working this early, or they might wonder.] Bring you and your terrible scarf here, I need your wrist.