Technology in Wartime: Part 7

The After-Party

Double D and I stuck around a little while to chat with a few of the speakers that we’d missed throughout the day. Eventually, we’d said all we needed to say, and started walking through the Stanford campus to the car. Outside the student union, I saw a pack of about eight college boys with the tell-tale red plastic cups. Then I see the keg sitting in the garbage can with roller wheels. I think I said something out loud like, “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re dragging a keg around campus in a garbage can?”

We became instant friends.

They handed me a beer. I gave the pourer shit about him giving me the worst head I’d ever had and that he better learn how to pour before he graduates. They tried to figure out if Double D and I went to school there or not. We talked about where everyone was from. Some guy said New Jersey. I said, “What exit?” We had our ten minutes of banter and then they rolled away.

Double D says it is hard to believe my stories sometimes, but he can’t deny them when he is there and taking pictures as it is happening. He and I sat there in the quad while I drank my crap beer from the dumpster. We debated God and organized religion. He is religious. I’m not. We felt like we were in college again. This time it is better because I would never have sat outside in public drinking a beer. I was just waiting for public safety to show up and give a 33-year-old girl a hard time about alcohol in the quad. That didn’t happen. We enjoyed it not raining for a few minutes. You’d think I’d moved to Seattle.

I even let Double D drive my car home. Only the seventh time he has driven a stick. Half a beer wasn’t really enough to make me not care, but he did a good job. I’d let him drive Myrtle again.


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