On Wednesday night, I braved a hellish half hour of traffic, tripped over some steps, went up to the third floor in an elevator and tumbled into a dark room, tripping over a few plush chairs. I had arrived, somewhat clumsily, but I was there.

It was the third and final presidential debate and I had been invited by a friend to go to the JSA Presidential Debate Watch in San Mateo. JSA, for reference, stands for Junior Statesman of America, or more plainly, it is a club for politically-minded teens.

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