Scene of the Crime

One morning in the fall of 1968, I woke up in an armchair in someone’s living room. I didn’t recognize the few other bodies sprawled around, but I had a vague memory of attending a party in that room the night before. I looked for my purse, but I couldn’t find it, and I didn’t have any money in my pocket. I had no idea how I was going to get back over the hills to my dorm at San Francisco State University.