He had to chuckle at that one and he gave a smirk over at his friend. Adam shook his head and downed another oyster. The slimy little son of a bitches felt disgusting going down by somehow the aftertaste was worth it. Adam shook his head. "Yeah me neither."

It was a conversation they'd had a long time ago. They were both jaded men, both men who'd made far too many mistakes to believe in redemption but stubborn enough not to have tried to ever ask for it anyway. They were both men heavy into addiction but it wasn't laced with any denial. Adam knew exactly what he was, and what he wasn't, and Booker was the same way. They understood each other on a deeper level than Adam thought might be healthy -- given the fact that neither one was likely to make the other want to change any. They were cozy in their rut together.

Adam ordered a straight Vodka to wash the oysters down with before he started on some of the potato skins. For another minute he was quiet until he was done with the snack. "I visited Isaac yesterday," he stated quietly. Isaac used to be here with them frequently, on the other side of Adam. He'd been sent to the facility out west. The state said it was for the best but Adam disagreed. He hated seeing Isaac locked up in there, they weren't helping him any. "He's getting along." Which Booker would understand to mean it was fucking sad and pathetic as usual. Even still, Adam tried to get out there at least once or twice a week to visit him.