No Pussy in Orlando

This second sortie turned out much better. I found an apartment in Orlando and settled in, then called Kootch. The plan was to find a Job and rebuild my life. It was about that time that I began work on a cryptographic system for use with e-mail. I was also working on a chess-playing program to allow two players to play over the phone using computers. This program had a graphic representation of the board and pieces. Players moved the pieces by typing the new coordinates. The program then moved the piece on both boards (via the telephone connection).

When I finished the crypto system I began work on a text editor. The two programs would eventually be merged to become Word Salad, my 'cryptographic word processor.' I wrote all this stuff in 'assembly language' which was much faster and more compact than Basic. In those days speed was essential because the 6502 processor ran at a pokey 1 mhz or so. At about this time I was also becoming familiar with a simple word processor (forget the name) which I bought at the computer store. My first notes were made with this program, but when my own text editor became usable I switched over.

Meanwhile I was looking for a job now and then, and not having much success.

My social life consisted of a weekly visit to the local chess club and a weekly visit to a local 'church group,' Orlando Unitarians (tap). Very strange people. I should have probably gone looking for some Catholic group. Before long a woman began subtly 'hitting on' me. She was about my age, not too bad looking (tap) but as I got to know her I realized she was quite ugly inside. She seemed to be well off financially (boom). She explained that her 'wealth' was part of a divorce settlement. Her former husband was a Las Vegas millionaire - a 'very cruel man.' That put me off even more than her own lack of inner beauty. We never got around to sex. She was totally unsexy to me. She had confided to me early on that she had recently had an affair with the church 'preacher' but 'that is over now.' Another turn-off. The last time I saw her was in her apartment. I had come over to retrieve a book I had lent to her. She offered me a glass of juice. The glass was clearly labeled, 'Poison.' I figured it was her idea of a joke. I took one sip out of sheer politeness but left the rest. I got no pussy whatsoever in Orlando. (1:10)