He gets it, but he's long past getting offended. He's interested, but that's largely a function of the language, not the grasping attempts to offend him? Tease him? Whatever the human is trying to do.

"And where am I to get food and drink?" he asked, waving his hand around the lounge, where all the food was dead and alcohol was mostly not. Synthahol. Trust the Ferengi to invent the equivalent of a chocolate teapot and spread it like a plague.