My wife immediately threw back the question: "What was
the issue?"
"Crushing loneliness."
During dinner, I let the women do the talking and spent
most of the time trying to detect clues as to whether
the last 12 months had softened Stallman in any
significant way. I didn't see anything to suggest they
had. Although more flirtatious than I remembered-a
flirtatiousness spoiled somewhat by the number of times
Stallman's eyes seemed to fixate on my wife's
chest-Stallman retained the same general level of
prickliness. At one point, my wife uttered an emphatic
"God forbid" only to receive a typical Stallman rebuke.
"I hate to break it to you, but there is no God,"
Stallman said.
Afterwards, when the dinner was complete and Sarah had
departed, Stallman seemed to let his guard down a
little. As we walked to a nearby bookstore, he admitted
that the last 12 months had dramatically changed his
outlook on life. "I thought I was going to be alone
forever," he said. "I'm glad I was wrong.
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