It doesn't bother him. She is what she is, and he's not been squeamish about bodies since the first time he had to stitch up a stranger. (Shouldn't he have lost those nerves with something more intimate? Oh well.) It's just easier to pretend otherwise; it's how most people are.

"I'm Tom." And he's still just standing there, casual, arms leaning on the railing like this is totally normal. "Sorry about the disturbance."

... With that dude being chucked into the river for some mysterious reason, and all.