Stories
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Jackie was fairly class conscious denigrating her own said lowly middle class status compared to the highfalutin people she knew. She drove an AmphiCar, green and white very rare, a car that could be used as a boat, very carefully I would think, with a propeller under the back bumper. It was a convertible. She would give me the low-down on various people we knew in common. I love gossip and to gossip but my rule was to always use just first or no names. The hippie rule as unspoken was first names only. I liked the idea because there was absent the stereotypical conditioned response to last name recognition.
MaryT had a job but she didn't say where that I can remember. Jackie said she worked at Fosters at Market and Seventh, the graveyard shift, about as seedy as you could get in San Francisco. MaryT was exploring the world of the ordinary people I would guess although Jackie called it slumming. I remember one day sitting at my kitchen table with MaryT and Jackie and they decided to do acid, asked me and I said no I didn't do any drugs, and in about three minutes they had both popped acid. I was not physically attracted to MaryT. I was young and still under the spell of the conditioning of external appearance as opposed to the inner self and soul. However in retrospect that was a big mistake. I would now consider it a privilege just to be acquainted with such a person, and probably would have fallen in love with her over time. However she did not stick around that long and if she had I would have had a whole another life.
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