I just imagine Steve standing the store, frowning more and more as towel after towel is deemed Not Good Enough. Not big enough, not thick enough, not soft enough, not the right color--god, what if Buck doesn't like the same colors he used to? What if Steve gets the wrong towel and ruins everything?--until some employee comes up and timidly asks if he needs help finding anything, and Steve just huffs out, "I guess this will do," as he gathers up enough extra-duper-fancy-silk-blend towels to dry the East River and stomps off to the registers.