The F-word(s)

I always knew I was no good at sports. Incidentally, now I know that I am no good at Game Theory either. This time, however, I have a good excuse. An excuse which does not include bad parenting, pigeons or flat feet.

I have been ambushed by two of the most innocuous but beguiling four letter words : Free Food.

Free food is the blessing and the bane of penniless grad students. Add to that the fact that I am Indian. In my first month at Stanford, my social life revolved completely around the availability of free food. I have masqueraded as a Management Science student for Mexican appetizers and posed as a harrowed Law student for two slices of pizza. An inch around your waist without an ounce off your wallet was my philosophy. In full parasitic glory, I made sure I fully squeezed out every bit of gratuitousness from my surroundings.

And then it was time for the universe to get even.

My Game Theory exam was scheduled from 7 PM to 10 PM (and in reality went on till 11 PM) last week. The professor, in a fit of kindness (which I wish she had used up while setting the exam), decided to regale us with some donuts and coffee. One donut before the exam and one after would be enough, I calculated and so did most others. However, faced with an insurmountable exam, appetites grew and the donuts were getting depleted with every passing minute.

Nash Equilibrium. Bayesian Equilibrium. Subgame Equilibrium. Perfect Equilibrium. I was thrown completely off-balance by this downpour of selfish players trying to maximize their payoffs. To make things worse, from the corner of my eye, I saw that there were just a couple of donuts left. With one hour and one question to go, I scurried out of my seat, just in time to pick up the last specimen of sugar-glazed goodness. Ah, now this is what equilibrium feels like, I thought.

While devouring my donut, my luck seemed to have changed too. The last question was a sitting duck. This is perfect, everything is zero. This must be the free donut on the exam, was my deduction. Twenty minutes later, something felt wrong. By now, the donut was where it belonged and my head was functioning normally, the sugar rush notwithstanding. Everything is zero? This can’t be right.

Indeed, it wasn’t. In my preoccupation with my hard-earned sugar-coated trophy, I had read an entire question wrong. I did realize my folly, but with just a few minutes to go.

There is no such thing as a free lunch. I guess cosmic forces make sure that you pay for every meal in full, eventually. Hmm, but still, this credit policy is still better than paying cash, right?