[Jaskier claps his hands together. You know, he normally would hardly play for cake -- it could be an insult, really, if that little performance wasn't meant to be followed up with a roll in the hay -- but he senses a genuine interest, and to a bard like Jaskier, that's worth more to him than any coin he could get.]

I should tell you to find me in the taverns like any other man of my audience, but I admit, it's been some time since I've allowed a private performance.

[The acoustics of the shop will be absolutely shit, of course, but Jaskier can make it work. Men with interesting personalities, faces, and cake... they're enticing enough to have him find a way to make it work.]

Oh, I have books of unrequited love. I fear it happens far too often, in so many different ways... [Though he does give the Doctor an off look. Burnt toast? He doesn't even know what a bus station is.] I tend to write songs about bigger concepts. Philosophies. Not... objects. Unless it's metaphorical.