I used to sell LSD and weed to an economics professor at Washington University in St. Louis. We played music together, I stayed at his house occasionally. He told me, "The first time you go to New York, you gotta take acid."
So what did I do? That's what I did. I had mopup, mopup is when you put LSD on paper, and what's left in the pyrex brownie pan when you're done, you mop it up, and you have no idea how strong it is. It's a crap shot. So I was with a girlfriend and another friend, in his car, and as soon as we got through the Lincoln Tunnel, my girlfriend and I each took a hit of mopup. I would guess, in hindsight, it was about twenty hits of normal stuff. We were headed to the Metropolitan Museum, but we got so high it was ridiculous. Walking up Fifth Avenue. We sat down on a bench, and a black kid, about ten years old, pretended to hand a joint to me, and I reached out for it like an idiot, and they laughed at us. We made it to the Met, sweaty and stinking like the hippies we were, and I saw this one, you don't forget this one, The Death of Socrates. We were almost like our own exhibit, but the other patrons were not so enamored of us. Later we tried to get to the George Washington Bridge, and got lost way north of where we should have been. That was kind of scary, we had Kansas plates.
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