Ben could somewhat relate to Adam's issues with his father, as his own grandfather also seemed to have a phobia of seeing anyone for medical reasons. The difference was, Ben himself didn't get any information on his grandfather's health from the man himself, as the gent was too proud and "sturdy" to ever think of bringing it up. He was updated from time to time by his grandmother, who managed to mask her concern with well-practiced, albeit affectionate annoyance. He had to give her credit for keeping the old war-goat in check for so long.
"I'll do the beer batter haddock and fries, please. Extra tartar sauce?" He smiled politely at the girl, who nodded with a smile of her own, not bothering to write down their order, as simple as it was. When she moved away, Ben's hand went to his straw, bouncing it lightly among the ice cubes in his glass as he sighed, continuing on with their conversation from before.
"Halden's got more than enough information to include the mutant genome in his lectures. I didn't have much personal experience with him, but his field research ran parallel to ours for almost two years. It seemed like we were swapping notes every five seconds. I have to imagine that the only reason it wasn't brought up today was the limited time frame. You start factoring homo superior into the equation and it can turn it into an extensive horse of a different color." He paused, glancing back to Adam before adding. "The director? Maybe turning him purple would help him take you a little more seriously? It's awful, I can't even remember the man's name. Paul...something-or-other? P..." Ben usually didn't have that much difficulty remembering things, but he wasn't even sure if he'd met the gentleman in question for more than a few seconds. He looked thoughtful for a moment, though laughably, the only thing that came into his mind was "P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney". "Yeah, I've got nothing."