"No one is ever going to mistake me for a lady boy."

He doesn't waste time getting dressed, dragging clean clothes out of "his" suit to pull on a pair of stretchy pants and a soft gray oxford shirt. His version of ready for the worst.

Not that he has any idea how he'd manage a transformation if that level of emergency comes up, but if it does, and if he does, at least he or Hulk- whichever of them ends up in the green body - can maintain a modicum of modesty.

Sure, not getting immediately mugged is a good sign. Bruce finds himself turning around in the same kind of wonder he remembers from his last (first) outing on the streets of Sakaar, without the mounting terror and Hulk shouting for freedom that had dogged him them.

"Try not to step on anyone," he mutters as he ducks under the arm of a large gray man with three heads. "Some people really don't like that."

The first stall that he finds that looks like it sells food... sells (maybe) food that's still moving. "Not pizza, let's move on."