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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 288 of 307 ^De quieh es este laptop que tienes? Whose laptop do you have? "Es de Steve." Steve's, I answered. Haz buscado para sus heramientas en este laptop? Have you looked for his tools on this laptop? Tools! Steve wasn't a magician! Another wave sucked me under. He was a mechanic! Of course he would have a subdirectory of tools and exploits. He had shown me many of these tasty applications at his place. I fought for the surface and breathed as hard as I could, to fill my lungs. I suddenly felt far less ambivalent about living or dying. There was hope. There was a chance that Steve had backed up his apps on the laptop that I had. A seven foot wave hammered my back and rolled me forward. I got hit by a five foot one right after that and just rolled with it, water going so far up my nose that brine shrimp could have swum around my eye sockets. I dragged myself to my knees and began crawling through the surf to the shore. The Wranglers made it harder than you would think. I was finally able to stand up and sloshed my way back to the motel room. Stripped. Showered. Dried. Put on some dry clothes and sat down in front of the laptop. I had never taken the time to poke through the apps on this system. It was a linux machine with the tasty Ubuntu OS. I |