Isaac nodded and shrugged. "I don't know, Tara. I don't know what the answer is. I just can't go on living like this. It's killing me by inches and I hate it," he grumbled as they finally arrived at the bakery. "How can you stand it? Knowing these people hate us just for being who and what we are? I could make a fortune selling my services outside of this place! But they won't let me here. We have to be regulated and controlled. It makes me sick knowing that I could be helping these ungrateful souls and they won't let me." He shook his head again and stepped up to the window. He slid the coin forward and asked for a large loaf of freshly baked bread. The woman running the bakery may not have liked him, but money always talked and he got the bread and some change. With it, he went and bought two drinks and returned to lead Tara to a bench they could eat at without being harassed.