Ben, having both seen the head tilt and senses her reaction, hasn't touched his tea, but is sitting back in his chair, tilting it on the back legs slightly, an expression of serene interest on his face.

The server herself is backing away, hands raised at the wrist, holding them at waist level. "Drugged?" she asks, shocked.

It's a good act, but it's a lie. Ben can already see the two people at the counter - a Weequay who looks like a customer and a human behind the counter - making eye contact with each other.

"Come now," he says to Ibani, in the soothing tone of someone used to talking to an unstable partner, "don't be rude to the nice lady."

He is also acting, he's just better at it than the lady in question.