Of all those options, Alexander is closest to the overwhelmed little old lady. He loves social media, but he doesn't understand it, and he defers all of his computer issues to his second in command and/or whichever drone gets too close when he's having an issue. All he can do right now is wring his hands worriedly and watch her as she works, and hope for the best (and keep their well meaning audience away).

"If you can fix it, I'll fetch you anything you like, peach blossom." He promises, but he still patters off behind the bar. The drones who were manning (and ladying) it have disappeared upstairs to help Mattie and Gill, so he's safe from distractions and returns in a moment with a fresh package of towels. He leaves them on the side, within her reach, and then heads back over to grab the mop from the cupboard. He might be a lot bit of a fop, but at least he's a fop that doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. "Let me know if I can do anything else for you."