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So I had nothing to do in my little room in North Beach and only slept there. Mostly at that time I was spending my day-time learning pottery and night-time attending evening classes at the Art Institute not that far away. I would hang-out evenings sometimes at the Minimum Daily Requirement.
There was a guy who would energetically enter the crowded evening cafe every now and then playing a flute. He would go from table to table jamming by himself, making eye contact with everyone seated. When he finished complicated riffs he would stop and laugh loud, his eyes all bulging and glistening, maybe a little sweat on his forehead. He seemed like a nut to the uninitiated including me. I always remembered him and always wondered how he had the nerve? Turns out a few years later after I met Sonoma my long-time companion, that she knew someone who married that guy. He apparently was a big-time musician from New York, but couldn't stand the fame and fled to SF.
So I would go to the MDR and get coffee some evenings, and sit at one of the little two person tables, smoke and write whatever, maybe letters home. Met a woman there once, dark shoulder-length hair, oval faced, tall and plump but more or less height weight proportional. She took me home. I slept with her, but I couldn't do anything. She was too nervous, overly anxious and even sweaty.
I was such a priss, she just turned me off. Bad thing. I got up early and just left before she awoke. I didn't know how to be communicative in these situations. Made her feel bad. Maybe I was just too mental, but notoriously Piscean-shy as well. But mostly in retrospect, I had too many negatives, which always had to be hidden of course.
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