Meng Yao is sleep-deprived enough from his new baby that when the cry wakes him up he's halfway through the first verse of Northeastern Cradle Song before he goes from "why can't I find his bottle?" to "because I am standing on a street corner and not in my house."
Why would they need that. They could just pretend to be rich until these people discover the concept of saying things that aren't so, and then go on a book tour, because fraud isn't even illegal.
"You could teach."
"I have a PhD from another world in political science based around the idea that politicians sometimes say things that aren't. And your job is based on your network which you don't have."
"Excuse me, sir," he says, "how do we contact the government if we have something very important to share?"
"My husband and I are visitors from another universe and we'd like to speak to whomever is in charge of resolving that sort of situation."
"The Secretary of State will be fine."
Behold the intoxicating feeling of power. Maybe the government isn't so bad.
"I'm certainly glad we didn't do that! We'd like to arrange for transport to an airport so we can have a meeting in private?"
"Well, right now we're in a hotel room in Kansas City and the front desk person could probably hear if he were determined."
All of his instincts are wrong for this!
"In my home universe it is customary for important meetings to happen in person, would you mind accommodating us?"