American History 1988
Chapter 96 - 90: Who is the Real BOSS

Chapter 96: Chapter 90: Who is the Real BOSS

"Shit! Marcus, I never should’ve believed your crap! Is this the hyped-up party you were talking about?"

Right now, Dean, wearing a T-shirt, was standing with Marcus in the dormitory’s public activity area, which was so deserted not even a ghost was in sight.

"Dean, to catch a beautiful girl, we must make some sacrifices." Marcus, who knew his way around, pulled out a bundle of black plastic sheeting from a pile of miscellaneous stuff in the corner and shoved it into Dean’s hands, "Here, we need to get this done before it gets dark!"

"What?" Dean looked at the plastic sheeting in his hands cluelessly.

"Of course the party exists tonight, but only if we set up the venue before it gets dark." Marcus pointed to the walls around them and said, "Stick this plastic up. It won’t only protect the walls from being wrecked by the party, but it will reflect the lights of the colorful light balls, making the girls more excited. Once the girls are excited, they’ll drink, and then we’ll have a chance to empty our tadpoles."

Marcus patted Dean on the shoulder, "Boss, whether we can kick off the party tonight is all on you."

"And you?" Dean held the plastic sheeting but didn’t move.

"I have an even tougher mission, of course. Like the malt drinks that aren’t allowed on campus. You know, without them, the party just won’t buzz."

"Marcus, I have a better suggestion." Dean turned around with a harmless smile.

"Dean, there are some jobs I wouldn’t advise you to try, especially since today is your first day at Stanford..."

"No~" Before he could finish, Dean put the plastic sheeting into his hands, "I’m the Boss, right? So the toughest job obviously goes to me. As for setting up the party venue, Marcus, I think you’re perfect for it."

"Dean, you need to prove it to me!" Marcus retorted, clearly unconvinced.

Dean laughed, and with a crisp snap of his fingers, he said, "Give me five minutes."

Five minutes later, Dean was back downstairs in the public activity area, dragging a suitcase with him.

Whoosh~, under Marcus’s curious gaze, Dean unzipped the case and lifted the lid. A can after can of Budweiser beer was neatly stacked, filling the entire suitcase.

"Oh~Shit! Dean, did you rob a Budweiser cellar?" Marcus gaped at the sight.

"Didn’t I tell you, the two cans of beer I took out of the backpack at the dorm earlier were only there because they wouldn’t fit in the suitcase?" Dean casually kicked the suitcase, which jingled responsively.

"What about the girls? I was planning to invite girls from my major or try my luck at the girls’ dorm next door, where a lot of freshmen moved in today." Marcus was still desperately grasping at straws.

"Whoa, that’s not a good idea at all." Dean seriously doubted whether Marcus was really ready to throw a party.

Girls from our major? Beauties in Stanford’s Computer Science major? Dean had his doubts.

As for the girls’ dorm next door? Such haphazard plans are best not to hold much hope.

"I’ll take care of the girls, and if all else fails, there’s always Sunnyvale as the last resort." That’s a blue-collar town in Santa Clara County, where streetwalkers usually loiter.

"Shit! Dean, I absolutely refuse to drain my tadpoles on streetwalkers!"

"Then hustle and get the party venue ready—it’s already noon!" Dean turned to leave, "Oh, and get the livestock in this dorm to help out. Tell them that as long as we get the party site ready before dark, there’ll be a constant stream of girls coming over."

Watching Dean’s retreating back, Marcus cursed and unfolded the black plastic sheeting in his hand. "Motherfucker, this guy’s performance is nowhere near a GPA of 3.9."

...

Elisa was a freshman at Stanford’s School of Humanities, or to be precise, a pre-freshman, because she hadn’t completed freshman registration yet.

After sending off her parents that morning, she and her roommate Kelly couldn’t wait to stroll around campus. They’d fantasized countless times about college life in high school, imagining the rich variety of student activities and handsome upperclassmen.

However, after half an hour of looking at red rooftops and limestone buildings, Elisa and Kelly found it somewhat bland. Without someone to guide them, they had no idea where to find the fun activities they were looking for.

"Hey, look over there, Elisa!" Just as the two were aimlessly preparing to return to their dorm, Kelly nudged her friend with her elbow.

"What’s up, Kelly?" Elisa turned to look at her roommate but saw her paying her no mind, instead smiling fondly at something up ahead.

Following her gaze, Elisa instantly caught sight of the boy setting up a booth in front of Stanford’s main courtyard.

Why instantly? Because the boy’s face was so handsome it was hard not to notice. If it weren’t for being at Stanford, Elisa might have thought she’d arrived at a Hollywood audition.

Seemingly aware of their gaze, the boy looked up and smiled at them.

"Hi~" Kelly, who’d been eagerly awaiting, showed off her most charming smile first. She still restrained herself and greeted him very ladylike with a wave.

Under the watch of Elisa and her friend, the boy across pointed to the banner beside him, "Freshman Social Guidance."

Elisa and Kelly exchanged looks, both seeing the eagerness in each other’s eyes. Without hesitation, they walked up to him.

"Do you offer social guidance for new students here?" Elisa instinctively softened her voice, not wanting to disturb that charming smile.

"Call me Dean. As you can see. To help freshmen integrate into Stanford’s vibrant life faster, I suggest you read through this guide. It’s free," Dean said, handing them a printed copy from the table.

This was a compilation he extracted from the enrollment materials from the school, other fraternities, sororities, and interest clubs’ recruitment posters. He had a computer and once the document was organized, he could print hundreds of copies in a matter of minutes.

"Wow~ is there a party tonight specifically for new students?" The first page of the guide in Elisa and her friends’ hands introduced the welcome party taking place tonight at the Lagunita Court dorm building.

"Yes, there will be upperclassmen there to pass on Stanford life experiences, and of course, no shortage of fun activities to liven things up," Dean said, blinking his eyes lightly, causing the hearts of Elisa and Kelly across from him to skip a beat.

"So, Dean, you’ll be there tonight too, right?" Kelly boldly cast her question.

"Of course, I’m a sophomore, maybe I can give you some helpful advice." Dean, putting on an air of an upperclassman, was composed and confident.

Kelly and Elisa exchanged glances, "OK, we’ll definitely be there tonight."

"Mention my name when you get there, and you’ll get special drinks~"

Watching the two new students leave, Dean nodded in satisfaction. See, wasn’t there a blonde beauty right there?

This was only the beginning of his stall, and already Dean had seen many. Many students had glanced over here, and most of them were girls.

For tonight’s party, he too had to reluctantly step up to welcome the guests. Just then, in the crowd of spectators, a young man hesitantly stepped forward.

Without leaving a trace, Dean discreetly removed the first page of the guide. This was the girls-only version, not yet open to the public.

...

At six o’clock in the evening, the public area of the Lagunita Court dorm. Unlike its daytime desolation, the place was now crowded with people moving to the beat of the booming music.

Just after entering, instead of an unwrapped large beverage container, there was now a label on white paper marked "malt juice."

The experienced Marcus knew how to avoid the eyes of campus police and dorm supervisors. As long as no one went too far, everyone turned a blind eye.

"Dean! Tell me the truth," Marcus whispered stealthily, hugging Dean’s shoulders after downing his beer, "Were you a regular at parties back in Cleveland? Over thirty girls! Even a gigolo couldn’t draw in that many people!"

In Marcus’ original plan, he intended to mobilize guys from their dorm. If they could fool over a dozen first-year girls into coming, that would have been a success.

But Dean single-handedly managed to meet three times their target, utterly insulting the charm of Marcus and his buddies—though now they were certainly enjoying it.

"Marcus, know who’s the Boss now?" Dean said, clinking glasses with him in a toast.

"Boss! From now on, party invitations and tough assignments are all yours. Cover for me for half an hour; two girls were hinting at me just now, I can’t waste this opportunity." Marcus patted Dean on the shoulder and then disappeared into the crowd in search of his signals.

At parties, everyone could drink to their heart’s content, but the organizers had to stay sober. Because they had to deal with all kinds of potential trouble, like what was happening now.

"Hey~ relax guys, what’s going on here?" Dean walked over to two boys and a girl who were clearly arguing and subtly separated them.

"This guy just called me a cunt!" the blonde girl accused first, complaining to Dean about the other boy’s recent offensive behavior.

"No, I said ’cut’! You misunderstood, Lena."

"Don’t call me Lena, we’ve known each other for less than five minutes!" The girl was quite displeased and interrupted the tall but seemingly naive white young man in front of her.

"OK, OK, what exactly happened? You first..." Dean looked up at the boy in front of him.

"My name is David, and it really was a misunderstanding," the young man named David said anxiously, clearly not very good at socializing, stuttering as he spoke.

"I was discussing a computer topic with Lena... err, I mean her..." Seeing the displeased look on the girl’s face across from him, David quickly corrected himself, "We were actually talking about the computer, and I think that the cut command is the greatest invention in the Apple computer system. Cut, as in cutting and pasting! Not cunt..."

WTF? Dean listened with a stunned expression, thinking, you’re discussing computer technology with a girl at a party? Ah?

"Okay," Dean rubbed his forehead and then looked up at Lena, "So you were indeed discussing computers before this happened?"

"Yes..." Lena said hesitantly, "but I don’t understand computers, I just wanted to pass the time with someone, and then I heard..."

"Okay, I got it." Dean raised his hand signaling them to relax, "Lena, there is indeed a ’cut’ command in computer systems. I can testify to that—I’m a computer science student, or you could ask anyone here who knows about computers."

"And you, David..." Dean pointed at the awkward and unsure David, admonishing him, "You shouldn’t be talking about the dry stuff like computer technology with a beautiful lady; you should’ve asked her to dance or to have a malt juice."

David nodded in embarrassment, while Lena indicated she was no longer concerned about the earlier issue.

"Alright, it’s all a misunderstanding. Have fun, Lena." Dean personally escorted Lena back to the dance floor before returning to David’s side.

"Dude, what’s your name? Seeing your performance, I’m seriously doubting the quality of Stanford’s education. Mother F*cker, this is my first day transferring here."

David’s eyes widened in surprise. The organizer of tonight’s party was on his first day of school? But seeing the look Dean turned on him, he still instinctively gave his own name.

"I’m David Fero, a master’s student in electrical engineering at Stanford."

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