He couldn't help but chuckle at her reasoning, thanking her for the glass and pouring it about a quarter full of scotch. He used to be able to drink a lot more, but it really had been a while. You had to build yourself a tolerance again. "You might actually have a point there," he admitted even as he took a sip. Very delicious liquid hit his tongue. It really had been too long since he had anything truly good like that.
"I have a computer in a private room?" He had to be dreaming. He was supposed to be serving tens years in a prison cell with a cellmate and everything. This couldn't be true, especially the part about a private bathroom. "Either I've died and this is heaven, or someone thinks I've been a very good boy to be sent here." He wasn't quite sure if he was believing this quite yet. "Grand theft auto, reckless endangerment by driving said auto through a department store, and driving while intoxicated. I don't remember much because I wrecked the car into a river and smashed my head against the steering wheel. I've got most of my memory back, but there are still more than a few holes in it." Not to mention the headaches.