Anyone interested in some 1970s drug and crime memoirs I discovered on a discarded hard drive?

Anyone interested in some 1970s drug and crime memoirs I discovered on a discarded hard drive?

How does one sell drugs to people who want something different than what you have? I learned how to do it when I went to visit my cousin in Napoleon in the early summer months of 1971. If they want mescaline and all you have is acid, it’s a simple thing to do. You just tell them that it’s a different type of mescaline. People will believe anything that you tell them if you act sincere and are earnest about how you deal with them.

You have my attention

I'm interested. Kind of.

Kevin, Brad and I decided to go try to see if we could sell them some Green Osley Acid. My cousin had told me, a short while before we thought about going down there, that the dopers in Napoleon didn’t want to do acid. They had heard the rumors about ‘if you did acid you would cause irreversible damage to your genetic code and would produce deformed babies.’ This is what the Government was saying about LSD. We knew from experience that the Government was as full of shit as a Christmas turkey. You have to remember that people were very skeptical of the way the Government dealt with things and how they tried to influence the way America perceived their actions. As if Timothy Leary would prescribe anything that would harm anyone in such a way as they were trying to dictate!

It was a warm and sunny Saturday morning and Kevin and I were sitting at my house trying to decide what we could do to amuse ourselves for the day. Kevin, Brad and I had driven to Detroit the night before and seen the movie ‘Woodstock,’ and now we were looking for something different to do. Kevin and I had purchased and then done some acid the night before. Brad just smoked a little pot ‘cause he wasn’t into the drug scene like Kevin and I were, and since we felt pretty mellow we thought that we could unload some on the people of the small community. So we headed over to Brad’s house to pick him up. We were like a modern version of the Three Musketeers, or so we thought at the time.

“My cousin told me that the people of Napoleon don’t want to do any acid!” I explained to Kevin on the ride over to Brad’s as we were smoking a bowl. “They believe the bullshit that the government says about acid! You know! About how it messes with your genetic code.”
“No sweat, Tim. We both know about the government!” he said. “We’ll just tell them that it is a new variant of mescaline and let them discover for themselves about how good it is. Besides we know that the government is full of shit when it comes to almost anything.”

We stopped at Brad’s house and I got out of the car and went in to get him. I had to wait a few minutes as he finished his breakfast. After we left his house we explained to him about what we had in mind.
“Sounds alright to me!” Brad told us. “Maybe we’ll see some good looking babes down there.” Didn’t he think about anything else except for girls? You’d think that he thought of himself as a reincarnation of Don Juan. Maybe he did and in all the time we spent together he never let on. Sorta like a ‘babe magnet.’
“Believe me,” I said. “They’ve got some good ones down there.” That brought a smile to all of our faces. He’s not the only one who thinks of women. “Napoleon may be a small town but they have some fantastic looking babes there. Hell,” I went on to tell them. “John nearly got my ass kicked last year cause he was trying to mess with the girlfriend of the guy who was throwing the party we were at. And yea, she was a real cutie, too!”
“Let’s head up to Michigan and pick up some beer for the ride down there.” Kevin suggested. “It’s, what? About an hour drive down to Napoleon?” We headed up Tremainsville Rd. toward Secor Rd., which would take us into Michigan.

Dunno why but I'm reading this in the Narcos' protagonist's voice.

Moar

bump

Kevin reached under his seat and getting his tray he handed it to me as we headed for Michigan. He and Brad lit cigarettes as we headed north.
Reaching into the right front pocket of my shorts I removed a baggy with a little under a quarter ounce of some Panama Red and plucked two good looking buds from the rest of the buds. As I broke the first bud open the aroma from it arose to
tantalize my nostrils with a sweet smell. If success has an odor this is it. I broke the rest of the bud and the other bud up and proceeded to twist up a nice bomber.
While I was busy cleaning and rolling the joint Kevin stopped at a carry out and purchased a case of beer for our journey. Once we got the beer we followed Secor Rd. until we got on Summerfield Rd. and then we headed west until we hit I-23. We headed south on I-23 till we got off at Rte. 24, which took us west towards Waterville. We had a nice ride down there as we drank some beer, smoked some pot and listened to Woodstock on Kevin’s 8-track. It was a good old time!

When we reached Napoleon we headed for John’s’ house to pick him up. He lived on the south side of Napoleon so we didn’t have too far to go to get to his home.
“Remember,” I said as we drove down the street he lived on. “This is green mescaline, not acid.”
Having got an affirmative from the other two we pulled into John’s driveway and Kevin parked the car. I went inside and retrieved my cousin. On the way out I told him of our wanting to unload some mescaline on anyone he knew who would be interested in what we had.
When we came out he recognized Brads from previous meetings. I introduced him to Kevin when we got to the car. I got in the back seat because John would need to get out to fetch our customers and I felt that it was the polite thing to do.
“This is a nice car! Comfortable.” Said John as he directed us to the first of our customer’s houses. “Wow! You’ve got an 8-track. I’ve never scene one before.” He told us in amazement. “Sounds good!”
“Thanks!” Kevin replied as we pulled up in front of our first customer’s abode.
“This is mescaline, now isn’t it?” he asked us before going up to the house. He apparently felt that our confirmation on this subject was all that was needed to verify the facts.
We confirmed that it was and being satisfied he retrieved our first client. He must have told his friend about our deal before bringing him out because he had a large grin on his face as he exited the house.
“How much for how much?” We were asked. Straight to the point! I admired his style.
“The more you buy, the cheaper it is.” He was told.

“So if I want twenty hits, how much?”
Kevin looked at me and then told him “Twenty hits for twenty bucks.”
With a satisfied look on his face he agreed and got a $20.00 bill out of his wallet. “Why is it green?” he asked as he paid Kevin.
“Just the way it was when we bought it.” Replied Brad, trying to act the part. We needed to appear as knowledgeable salesmen.
“But it is good? Right?”
“Money fully refunded if you’re not fully satisfied.” I stated.
“Good enough for me.” He said. We said our good-byes and drove off to see our second customer.

On the way to the second house John asked if he could get a hit for turning us on to our new clients?
“Sure thing!” Kevin said. He opened the pill bottle and got out five for John. He also got out one for himself and one for me.
“Can I get a beer from you guys?” John asked. He should know that this was a dumb question. Why would we drink beer and not give him some. Common courtesy I suppose.
Brad got him a beer. Said “Here you go.” and asked Kevin and I if we needed a refill?
“Well, hell yes!” I said as he handed me one so I could swallow my hit.
“Yea, I could use one, too.” Kevin told him. He popped the top and swallowed his hit with as much enthusiasm as I had.
When we got to customer number 2s house John brought him out to the car and we went through the same shit as we had with customer number 1. Except that #2 wanted fifty hits which we sold him for $35.00. ‘The more you buy the less you pay.
Some people wanted ten or twenty and some only wanted one or two or five.
So that was how we spent a sunny Saturday. Tripping, drinking beer, smoking some good dope and selling acid to people whom thought that they were buying mescaline. We sold about one hundred and seventy hits. No one was the wiser and no one complained. We had made about a hundred and thirty bucks, which was just shy of what we had paid for 500 hits. Everybody was happy all the way around and no one felt cheated. And we had sold nearly enough to pay for our expenses. I love it when a plan comes together.

Dude, create a torrent. This is gold.

After we had delivered the last hit to the last customer we decided to go down to our families cottage on the Maumee River and have some fun. John, Kevin and I were tripping nicely and Brad was getting blasted on the beer. We still had over a half of a case left and everything was going great.
John made the comment that this was the best mescaline that he had ever done. We thanked him for the compliment and for turning us on to so many happy customers.
As we drove down the lane John and I thought, simultaneously, ‘what if one or more of our aunts or uncles was down there.’ As we pulled up to the cottage we both spoke what we had thought. Thankfully, no one was there and we proceeded to drink a few more beers and smoke a little more reefer.
“Man, I see such good trails!” I commented as I waved my arm around. Picking up a stick I threw it into the air. “Do you see the trails from that?” I asked as it hit the river water.

“You know,” John told us. “This almost feels too good to be mescaline.” He thought for a minute, then told us, “If I didn’t know better I’d almost think that this feels like LSD even though I’ve never done any.”
“John,” I told him. “How could you even say that this feels like LSD, and you’ve never done any?”
“I hope that I’ve never done any acid!” he commented. “But with what mescaline I’ve done, this feels more extreme than any of the rest.”
With a completely stoic expression on his face Kevin told him, “Everything affects everybody differently.”
We sat by the waters edge and drank, and smoked and tripped. Kevin and Brad smoked a lot of cigarettes in between joints and bouts of talking. We all enjoyed it so much that we really hated having to take John back home, but we had shit we had to do and time was a wasting.
After we dropped John off at his house we went and followed Rte. 110 east as it meandered along the south side of the river. We checked out all the neat old farmhouses as we passed them along 110 until it ended at a junction for Rte 109 north. Then we followed 109 and checked out the houses until we got to where it crossed the river and we went back to the north side of the river to Rte. 24 north. We were still listening to Woodstock and as we approached Grand Rapids, where it crosses over to the south side of the river, Kevin stopped, and parked, in the middle of the road. Since no one was coming up or down Rte.24 and Sha Na Na was just starting we all exited the car and danced, in the middle of the road around the car, to ‘At The Hop.’

The ride back to Toledo was uneventful, except for our dancing and the fact that we ran out of beer as we were leaving the city of Waterville. We drove Rte. 24 back to I-23 and followed it up into Michigan where we bought another case of beer and headed for Kevin’s house to see what kind of shit ‘Mom’ would inflict on us.
She really liked playing with our heads when she knew we were tripping or doing other drugs. She never actually came out and told us not to trip but by her actions when we were we knew that she liked to mess with our heads if we were.
She would do things like move your drink to another spot while you weren’t looking. You may not pay attention at first but she would put it back in the same spot each time and you would start wondering we it wasn’t where you had put it? Others around the room would see her doing this but then they would be in on it too. Once I had it where she had others who would distract me if I should start to look her way as she was moving my glass. This wasn’t a set up, they just started to follow her lead as they caught on to what she was doing and pretty soon everyone was in on the gag. From time to time it was a real head-trip. We just took it for granted that that was why she messed with our heads.
She was a great lady and had a lot more sensitivity to our drug usage than my mother did. She also knows more about the drugs that I did because this is something I don’t think I could discuss with my mother. She knows about some things but there are some things that she will never know.

That's all for this file, anyone wan't MOAR?

Want all.

Here's the next one...

A beautiful thing happened to me on March 6th, 1971. At a time when the most important thing in my life was what was the next drug I would like to indulge myself in, while at the Ballroom I met a very engaging, beautiful young blonde lady. It was almost like we were meant to meet and we both took an instant, and mutual, attraction to the other. At that time neither of us realized it completely, though. There was a simultaneous fascination that neither of us would be able to recognize until later.
She was an extremely gorgeous, tall, slender and sumptuous, young thing of sixteen. I was smitten! What she saw in me is still a mystery to me. I had a minor buzz; Kevin and I had smoked a small bowl of Colombian Gold before we arrived at the Ballroom. I spied her standing along the back wall, between the men’s and women’s bathrooms, with a shorter dark-haired cute as hell busty brunette. I approached the blonde and said “Hello good looking would you care to dance?”
To my surprise, in a quiet shy voice, she replied “That would be nice.”
As I escorted her to the dance floor I introduced myself; “My name is Tim Page.” She said that her name was “Robyn S.” The band was just starting another song as I led her to the dance floor and we proceeded to slow dance to a somewhat faster paced song. I felt as if we were dancing on air. After the dance we went and sat down where Kevin and Robyns’ girlfriend were seated and talking. We sat down and Robyn introduced me to her girlfriend Barbara and I, likewise, introduced her to Kevin.

We all talked together for a while until the conversation dragged. All we had talked about was the usual small talk. Hi. How are you doing? Then things got pretty quiet for a minute or two and then Robyn and I started talking to each other. The other two were quiet a little while longer and then Kevin and Barbara started to talk. Robyn told me that she was a sophomore at Whitmer High School and I told her that I was employed at the Elks Lodge. I told her that I had graduated that spring from Start. We both lived at home. I could tell by the way she answered some of my questions that she was quite shy. But she was less shy with me. I also learned that she was virgin. Damn!&#! Awe, well! A challenge? Maybe?
While we were talking, off and on, my ‘girls’ came by and inquired about the young lady that seemed to enthrall my attention. I introduced her to each of my ‘kids’ and she reciprocated their inquirees. All were happy to see me so engulfed in another females attentions except Kris S. Who knows?
“How is it that all of these girls call you ‘Dad?” she asked.
“Tell her about it, Tim!” Kevin replied.
I proceeded to explain to her about my ‘kids’ and how their devotion to me came to be. Robyn thought that it was a grand idea that I cared so much about all of these young women and about how I supervised their drug attraction. I wouldn’t let them do anything that I wouldn’t do. But, she was jealous that I paid that much attention to them! At the time being the ever-benevolent SOB that I was I took it as a compliment. So be it!

While we were talking Brad Douglas comes into the Ballroom and seeing the four of us sitting and talking together approaches our gathering area. “Hey, Brad” I said, “I’d like to introduce you to…”
“Hey, I know Robyn.” he states, “but I don’t know this other sweet young thing.” He hungrily glares at her.
“Brad, this is my girlfriend Barbara” she replies. “Down boy!”
“Hey, hey cutie-pie! What are you up to?” He smoothed out like cheap jam. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I’ve seen you around Whitmer.” says Barbara with a somewhat ‘how dare you’ attitude. “You do go to Whitmer, don’t you?”
With a disgruntled look on his face he complains “Yea, I guess I do.”
“No Barbara, you do go to Whitmer.” I piped in. “Ain’t no guesses about it.
Sheepishly, Brad says. “Yea. I do. I know.”
“See. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Kevin asks him.
About this time Brad sees one of the girls that he has been trying to get to know walk into the Ballroom. Turning, he states “Gotta go!” and briskly walks over to where she stood talking to a mutual friend. She turned, and with a glamorous smile on her face sees Brad approach her. We never knew what she said to him because we went back to our own conversations and neither Kevin nor I bothered to ask him, later. But we did learn a part of what she said when Brad told us later!

“So how long have you known Brad?” Robyn asked me.
“Well, to tell the truth I’ve known that little SOB since early ’63.” I told her. “But it seems like a lifetime. How long have you known the screwball?”
“A friend of mine, Matt Murphy, introduced us a couple of months ago.”
“You know Matt?” I replied; a little taken back by how small our social circles were and how many others they crisscross. It is a small world!
“We went out a few times.” She said, rather dejectedly.
“You sound a bit dissatisfied with him.” I told her as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I tried not to appear nervous. Show no fear!
“I thought that I liked him but after we went out a few times I told him that I liked him only as a friend.” She explained.
“That’s something no guy likes to hear.” I told her. But inside I was yelling hurrah! Outstanding that Matt could blow it so easy. Hurrah for my side!
With a sheepish look on her face she said, “Yea, I know. But that’s the only way that I like him. He’s kinda pushy, ya know?”
With a shit eating grin on my face, I replied, “That’s our Matt.” At least I knew he wouldn’t stand in my way!

About this time the band took a break and the DJ started playing Elton John’s ‘Your Song’ on his turntable.
“Care to dance?” I asked her as I stood up and grabbed her hand.
Rising, she acknowledged my question with a nod of her head. From her attitude I gathered that she was a bit shy.
We danced and danced and danced. Time went by and before we knew what was happening it was time for the Ballroom to close. I didn’t want to let her go and I didn’t want the night to end so I asked her “Do you have to go back to wherever it is you have to go back to?”
“I live out in Shoreland and I told my folks I was staying at Barbara’s’ house.” She told me as we met Kevin and Barbara coming to meet us.
Having heard the tail end of our conversation Barbara filled in the end of the story. “And I told my folks that I was staying at Robyn’s house.” Barbara took a sip from her Coke. “I live a couple of houses down from her.” With this said and the crowd heading for the door we all left also.
“Why?” Robyn inquired. “What do you two have in mind?”
“Do you guys get high?” I asked as we were walking down the steps. I tried to keep my voice low because of possible narcs. I didn’t know everyone in the stairwell.
Rather shyly Robyn replied that they did.

“Good.” Kevin said as he lit a cigarette. “We’ll smoke a joint on the way over to a friend of ours place.” We walked over to Kevin’s car and I helped Robyn into the back seat. Barbara took her place in the front seat. As we were getting into the car I saw Brad Douglas approach us.
“Hey.” He cried out as her came up to the car. “Where are ya’ going?”
“We’re going to Big Doug’s apartment.” Kevin replied. “Get in.” He reached under his seat and pulled out the rolling tray.
I moved from the passenger side of the backseat to the driver’s side to make room for Brad to get in. As I was moving Kevin handed me the tray.
Barbara pushed the back of the bucket seat forward as Brad leaned forward and got into the back seat next to Robyn.
“Hello again.” Brad said as he sat back, flicking his cigarette butt out of the car as Barbara closed the door.
“What happened to your girlfriend?” I asked inquisitively, as I started to break up the reefer that I would roll into a joint.
“M-m-m-m, that smells good.” Brad stated, looking at the goldbud. He then replied to my question “She’s going home. Her dad wanted her home right after the Ballroom closed.”
In the meantime Kevin started the car, backed out of the parking place, put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot headed for Big Doug’s apartment.
“That’s what she gets for not making arrangements ahead of time.” Robyn said. “Her dad is a harsh man.”
“You know Chris?” Brad inquired.
Robyn looked at Brad as I finished rolling the doobie and she told him “I know her but I don’t like her. She’s a slut!”
With a look of wild excitement on his face Brad said “Really? Well, what do you know about that?”
Reaching across Robyn I smacked Brad on the face and told him “Down boy!” Then I took a lighter out of my pocket and lit the joint. Taking a drag I passed it up front to Kevin.

“Well hell, there may be hope for me yet!” Brad exclaimed. “Yahoo!”
At the same time Robyn reached forward trying to grab the doobie and asked “What about me?”
After Kevin took a hit and passed it to Barbara he turned his head to the right and said “The driver gets it after Tim ‘cause we work as a team. Tim rolls it and lights it and I get it after him”
This caused Robyn to frown and start a little pout. By this time it got to her and the pout left her face as she took a deep drag on the joint. She then started to pass it to Kevin but I caught her hand before Robyn could tap Kevin on the shoulder to get his attention.
With a bit of a smirk I grabbed the joint and turning toward her I said, “I get it before it goes to the front. Like Kevin said ‘we are a team.” I then took a deep drag on the joint. Again I had that shit-eating grin on my face. Before I passed it up front I took the alligator clip off of my belt loop and placed it on the ever-shrinking roach.

By the time we finished the joint we were coming up on the building which housed Big Doug’s apartment. Kevin pulled off the main street onto the side street and parked the car. Spilling out of the car, and making plenty of noise, we proceeded towards the building to get to the second floor apartment. Robyn, Brad and Kevin all lit up cigarettes
When Big Doug answered the door he took a look at the two good-looking gals we were with and asked us “So what are you boys up to?” He then led the girls into the front room as we followed them.
Before setting down we introduced the girls to him and he made the comment “That’s a fine looking little lady that you have there Tim.” I thanked him for his observation and we all sat down with me on the left end of the couch, Robyn next to me, Kevin next to Robyn, Barbara next to Kevin. Brad sat on a small stool next to the couch. Doug sat in a large, heavily stuffed, chair across from the five of us. “Who wants to smoke some real good reefer?” he asked us, eyeing the girls guilefully. We all said yes and Doug began to roll a big fat ‘bomber.’

We sat around bullshitting each other for awhile, smoking a few joints, then Doug’s girl Nancy came over and they went back to Doug’s bedroom for the night. Kevin and Barbara moved off of the couch into the chair Doug had vacated and I stretched out on the couch with my head in Robyn’s lap. We talked for a time and somewhere in the talking I fell asleep with my head still in her lap.
When I awoke it was light out and looking up I spied Robyn looking down at me with a worried expression on her face. As I asked her why she looked so anxious I gazed around the room. Barbara was asleep on the couch, on the other side of Robyn, Kevin was asleep in the chair that he and Barbara had occupied the night before and Brad was crashed out on the floor, curled up in a fetal position. I saw another body laid out on the floor and recognized Jesse, a very cool Mexican that we had met a few before here in the apartment.
I asked Robyn why she looked so fretful and she told me that after I had been asleep for a little while she had to go pee.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I inquired.
“I was afraid that you would get mad if I woke you.” She stated.
Looking at her, with a puzzled look on my face, I told her, very emphatically “When ya’ gotta go, ya’ gotta go.” Her worried look changed to one of desperation.
Raising my head I allowed her to scoot off the couch and she headed for the bathroom.
When Robyn arose to go to the can it woke Barbara up. Sleepy-eyed she scanned the room then threw a small pillow she had used to support her head at Kevin. This caused Kevin to wake up so he, not so gingerly, booted Brad in the back.

Startled, Brad awoke with a jolt. “Huh?” he said. “What?” He looked only about twenty percent there.
This got Barbara and I to giggling. As Robyn walked back into the living room she started giggling which got us all to laughing, which woke Jesse up.
“Good morning, sleepy-head.” Kevin said to him as Jesse opened his eyes.
“What’s so funny?” Jesse asked.
“You are!” I replied. “When did you get here?” I asked him as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with his right hand and rubbed his hair with his left.
Clearing the sleep from his eyes, and stretching his arms and legs, he told me “I guess I got here about a half-hour after you fell asleep. At least that’s what Kevin told me when I got here.”
Kevin, Robyn and Brad all lit cigarettes.
“So, I guess that you all partied a bit before everyone fell out?” I quipped.
“We burned another one before we all crashed. It was getting late.” Jesse told me. “You know how it gets to be?”
“Shouldn’t we be thinking about breakfast?” I asked and looking at the girls added “And getting these ladies home?”
The girls attitude brightened up at this suggestion, which made my attitude darken. I would really like to see Robyn again. What could I do? Think, boy! Think!
“So what are you doing tonight?” I asked as we were getting our stuff together. “I’d really like to see you again.” I turned in her direction to see her expression when I said “How about tonight?” After saying that I led the way out into the hall, looking behind as I went.

The smile that came to her face let me know the answer before she even spoke. “Want to go to the movies?” she asked. “Maybe Kevin would want to take Barbara to the movies?” She stared, hopefully, at Kevin.
As we walked down the steps I could hear Kevin, three people behind me, making sounds which led me to believe that he was thinking about what he had been asked!
We all could hear the muffled remarks that Brad was making despite the fact that he was the last one in line.

By the time that we made it to Kevin’s car he still had not given Robyn an answer yet. Letting Barbara and Brad walk to the passenger side of the car I led Robyn to the driver door allowing Kevin to unlock it first.
I opened it and made a gesture for Robyn to unlock the other door as I whispered to Kevin. “I want to see this gal again! Barbara isn’t a bad looking girl, man!” Then I climbed into the back seat. He shrugged his shoulders as he got in to drive.
When I got situated in the backseat Robyn handed he a piece of paper. “This is my phone number.” She said. “Call me this afternoon. Uh…later this afternoon.”
As we drove out to Shoreland Robyn and I started necking.
“Now cut that out!” Brad said as he tried to slide his hands between our faces.
“Nobody gets to neck if I don’t get to!”
“B, you could loose that hand if you don’t move it.” I commented as I tried to bite it.
“Now cut that out!” he repeated.
I smiled as I went back to kissing Robyn.
“We live on Vistula.” Barbara stated. “At the far end.” She added.

Our drive took us from Collingwood to Phillips, down Phillips to the entrance ramp for I-75 north, which took us to the Shoreland exit. Turning onto Shoreland Rd. we headed toward the Michigan State line.
Just before we started to cross over I-75 Barbara shouted, “Turn right here!” as she pointed toward her street with her right hand. “Don’t turn down our street. Go straight till you get to the next right turn and let us off at the corner.”
“Call me!” Robyn pleaded.
Kevin pulled to where Barbara had directed and she opened her door to get out.
Brad exited the car to let Robyn and I out.
“I’ll call you. Believe me, I’ll call you.” I stated emphatically.
We departed and headed back to take Brad home. After we dropped Brad off Kevin took me home and then went home himself. This was the start of a beautiful relationship! Little did I even perceive any of the adventures that awaited our little circle of players!
And adventures is what they are.

Still want MOAR?

Still here, still selling fake doors

Yeah keep going.

k.

I will never forget when Kevin and I went down to the Pantheon Theatre to see ‘20,000 Leagues Beneath The Sea.’ All I was able to see were the opening credits to the movie and that was it. It was the first Saturday in June 1971. Kevin came over early to see what prospects I had in mind for us to do this day.
“So what do you want to do today?” he asked in a quizzical tone as he walked into the living room. “Mom home?”
“No!” I said. “Had to go to work. Some shindig at the Elks, I guess.”
“We need some drugs.” he told me. “Do you have anything?”
“No!” I told him but a thought went through my mind quite quickly. I must have appeared like the cartoon character when the light bulb turns on over his head. “But I think I know where we might be able to find something.”
“Is it far?” he inquired.
“Naw!” I told him. “Just up to Wernerts Corner. I might be able to get something that’ll get us through the day.” I figured that tonight would take care itself.
We went out to Kevin’s car and drove up the road. Our destination was just under two miles from my house. On the journey up the road we talked about maybe going to the movies if we could find something good to see.
The dude I needed to see was exactly where I thought that he would be. We pulled into the parking lot where he was standing next to his car and drove over to where he was.
“Hey Tommy!” I called out to him as we approached. “I need to talk to you for a minute.” He knew what it was that I wanted even before I had to ask the question.
“Looking for some good tripping dope, huh?” He asked as we stopped the car. He took three steps over to our car and stuck his head through the opening for the passenger side window.

I asked him, “You sure that you got some good acid?” He always had good LSD but it was an informal question, a minor necessity anyway. It was just good manners.
. “Hell yes!” he exclaimed. “That’s all I deal in. You know that!” he proudly told me. He knew that I knew he only sold good stuff. Never did we ever get any bogus shit from him.
“We are looking for just two hits right now.” I told him. “Maybe this evening we’ll be back for some more.”
“A buck apiece.” He proudly exclaimed as we got our money out.
We received the two hits and left to return to my house to check the Toledo Blade to see what was playing where. After going through the Peach Section we decided on the matinee showing of the Jules Verne movie. Matinee was at 1:00 p.m. and it was a little past 11:00 a.m. so we had a little time to kill. It had been some time since either of us had watched it so we figured it would be on opportunity to view it again.
“Could I get a glass of water?” Kevin inquired.
“Kevin, you know that you don’t have to ask such a dumb question. Hell,” I told him. “I can get something to drink at your house without having to ask ‘May I?’ and you know that you don’t have to ask here!” I gave him an exasperated look. Jeez, you’d think he had never been here before.
“Yea, I know!” he explained to me. “I just wasn’t thinking” He turned to go into the kitchen then turned back to me and asked, “You need a glass of water too?”
As he was turning to go into the kitchen I told him, “Yes, thank you.”
“Being kinda formal now, aren’t we?” Kevin asked me.
“No more than you asking me about getting a drink.” I said. “Just being polite.” I enjoyed playing with his head even if we weren’t high.

I'm waiting for this to turn into everybody walk the dinosaur or the fresh prince theme song.

enjoying, thanks OP

He brought us both a glass of water and we took our hits of LSD and watched a little less than an hour’s worth of cartoons before we proceeded out to the car for our trip downtown. Nothing much was said on the way to the theatre, we were listening to music trying to get into the mood for the Science Fiction movie we were going to see. I think that we were listening to The Moody Blues, ‘In Search Of The Lost Chord.’ As we arrived at the theatre and parked the car both of us were just starting to get off on the drug that we did, which told us that our preparation was progressing along nicely.
Paying our admission price we entered the theatre, went to the candy counter for our refreshments and then entered the almost vacant theatre. Previews for upcoming movies were on the screen as we walked down the far right section. We went about two-thirds of the way down the aisle when Kevin entered a row and went about halfway in before setting down. I followed and sat down next to him and started watching the previews.
‘Wow! I can’t believe all this neat ornamentation that they have in here!’ I thought as I checked out all the scenery. ‘All right, the movies starting! Far out!’ I thought as the opening credits started on the movie. I tried to get comfortable to view the flick.
It was about this time that something started to irritate me. The theatre had the air-conditioning on; being it was exceptionally warm for that early in the summer season. The air-conditioner had a squeal to it that seemed to be imperceptible to anyone else but to me and it started to mess with my head. This squeal started to play on my nerves and it seemed that there was nothing that I could do about it. I tried to ignore it but it didn’t work. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard. I didn’t get any strange hallucination or anything like that. It seemed that it worked on my nerves and it was doing a damn good job at it.

No problemo. Dude should've been smart enough to learn to delete his shit. This OP is NOT a faggot. Broke as a joke, but I'm so alpha, I was once able to turn out a Las Vegas hooker for a night.

“Kevin,” I told him. “I need to go to the ‘john.’ Something is fucking with my head. It’s making my mind go nuts.” Saying this I rose up out of my seat and headed for the bathroom, spilling my popcorn all over the place trying to get out of our aisle. I couldn’t hear the glitch as well in the restroom as I could out in the theatre but I still heard it and it still made me jittery. I had to do something but I didn’t realize at this time that it was the noise from the air-conditioner that was upsetting me. I splashed water on my face quite a few times thinking that it would solve my problem. No such luck! The agitation still held me in its clutches. Nothing that I tried seemed to help at all It would take me years of replaying this scene over in my mind before it came to me that it was the air-conditioner.
Still in an agitated state I ran out of the theatre and started asking passing people if they knew “Where I could obtain any downers?” I imagine that I must have asked between fifteen and twenty people before someone called the police. All I was trying to do is get relief from whatever it was that was causing the LSD to inflict such a head mess.
Here I was, out in front of the Pantheon Theatre stoned out of my head, and loosing my shit, when a police paddy wagon pulls up and two officers exit the vehicle.
An older white lady approaches the two policemen and tells them, “That’s him officers.” pointing at me. “That’s the man I called you about!”

One officer stayed with the woman, talking to her, and the other approaches me and asks me, “Sir, can I have your name?”
“My name is Timothy Page.” I told him. “And I’m having a bad acid trip.” This is something you would not ordinarily tell a cop but in the state that I was in it was not an ordinary day!
He tells me to put my hands behind my back, which I do, and he starts putting a set of handcuffs on me and directing me towards the rear of the paddy wagon. “Mr. Page. You’re not being arrested.” He tells me as he is leading me up the steps of the wagon. “We are just taking you in in protective custody so that you don’t harm yourself or any one else. Do you understand this?”
As I start to tell him that I do, my next older brother’s in-laws pull up next to the patrol wagon.
My older brother Dave’s mother-in-law leans out of the car window and asks the officer what I am being arrested for. He explains to her what is happening and why they are doing what it was that they were doing.
“Can’t we just take him with us?” she implores of him.

“Ma’am,” he explains to her. “If you had gotten here before I put the cuffs on him I’d be more than happy to oblige. But since I’ve already put them on him I can’t release him without a doctors say so.” With a ‘not very happy’ expression on his face he helps me into the back and locks the door. I sat on one side and he sat across from me. “I’m sorry that we have to do this!” he says as we pull away from the curb.
“I know!” I tell him. “You’re just doing your job.” Strange how being messed up in the head makes a person milder than he normally is. If I were being busted for something, I’d probably be kicking and screaming and making both of them force me into the back? “I’m sorry that I have to make you do this.”
“Why do you young people do this kind of shit to your bodies?” he asks me in bewilder- ment. He seemed to be a nice person. “I’ve seen people who have OD’d, on bad trips and some who just don’t give a shit, about themselves or the people they inflict damage upon.
“I do it because usually I have a good trip.” I tell him, not believing how casually I’m discussing this with a cop! “I’ve had a few bad trips before today but none as bad as this one.” Since I had entered the paddy wagon, and was away from that irritating glitch, I had started to calm down a bit. But I was still flying higher than I wanted to. “I like the way that acid makes me feel, the body high, and I get off on the hallucinations. I’ve seen some shit that you wouldn’t believe!” I may have appeared casual but I was anything but.
It was at about this time that we pulled into the cop shop! The vehicle came to a stop and after a minute or two the back door opened. The other cop, whom I am supposing was the driver announced, “We’re here Mr. Page! Step down please.”

This is way better than the shit that gets posted and reposted these days. I'm monitoring the thread and plan to capture it when it's done.

No problem, buddy. Gotta have a throwback thread. Good fucked up shit like the good old days.

The officer who was riding in the back with me helped me up and out of the wagon. “Be careful going down the steps.” He said as he helped me down. I was helped into and then rode in the elevator with the two policemen as we went up to the jail floor. They led me to the booking desk where they told the sergeant in charge about why I was there. While one was doing the explaining the other one took the handcuffs off of me.
“OK Mr. Page.” The desk sergeant told me. “Empty your pockets, take off your belt and give me your shoelaces.” I did exactly as he instructed me to do. When I had finished he told another officer who had been standing there, “Take Mr. Page back and put him in a cell alone.”
On the way to my cell the officer told me, “We are putting you in a cell by yourself so that you don't hurt anyone else and no one will be able to harm you.” This sounded plausible to me. As he was locking the cell door he told me, “I’ll be back every so often to see how you are doing. If you need anything, just give a holler. I’ll be here as soon as I can.” He then turned and walked on down the hall.
I was still flying higher then ever but I was becoming more relaxed.
“Hey man! You look wired, man! Hope ya’ don’t mind me talkin’ to ya.’ My name is Michael” The dude in the cell across from me asked me. “What ya’ in for?”
Trying to get my shit together so that I didn’t sound like a babbling idiot I started telling him about how I came to be there. “Name’s Tim! I did some LSD and lost my shit while trying to see 20,000 Leagues beneath the Sea.” I’m not sure if that was how it came out but he smiled at me.

“Man, it would take a whole frigging army to get me in here if I was messed up on acid.” He told me as he was checking up and down the cellblock. “Dude, I would really hate to be in here if I was tripping.”
“Well I am tripping and I do hate being here!” I exclaimed to him. “I’d rather be at home curled up with my girlfriend no matter how fucked up I was.”
“What color hair does your girlfriend have, man?” he asked me. “Is she a blonde, brunette or a redhead?”
Thinking hard, I thought before I spoke. “Ah, her hair is blonde but I have no real idea of what her natural color is. I do hope to find out one of these days. My old lady says she’s dyed her hair so many times she can’t remember her real hair color. You know how this shit can be?”
“Yea, I do.” He said. “Ever make it with a mamma?” he asked,
He seemed real interested but it could be because I was as high as a kite and needed a friend. “Never had an opportunity and now that I‘ve got an ole’ lady, I don’t want to.” I told him.
The smile that broadened over his black features was very warming. “Got to respect that!” he told me. “Hear comes the warden!” he said. “We’ll talk later!”
Looking down the hall I saw the officer who had put me in my cell come walking down my way. He was about five foot nine inches tall, reddish hair and athletically built. He had what I took to be a caring attitude.

I was feeling more at ease and a little bit more like I would like to be, if I weren’t in jail. I had no idea how long I would be here so I was in the dark about what was going on.
I thought about Kevin and how perplexed he must be with my not coming back from the restroom. He must be wondering where the hell I was. This had to be the biggest mind- fucker of all time. This was more intense than John and my trip to Goose Lake.
And what about Robyn? Oh, God! I hope this doesn’t blow it with her. ‘I hope she’ll believe me about today.’ I thought as I glanced down the cellblock. ‘Shit!’
As the cop came strolling down the jail walkway checking on everybody to see how they were doing. By the time that he got to my cell he had talked to just about everyone. I guess that it was my turn now.
“So how are doing now, Mr. Page?” he asked me as he stopped in front of my cell. He was fumbling with his keys so I thought that he might be just a little nervous. He had no idea as to what kind of person I was so he may have been trying to get a bit of a feel on what kind of crazy psycho I might be. Who knows?

Talking with Michael had helped me to relax just a bit. I sure didn’t want to come off as anybody weirder than I already was. “I feel a bit better than I did in the theatre.” I told him in all honesty. I’d love to be anywhere else than in the Toledo Jail on a Saturday … hell I didn’t know if it was afternoon still or not. “Could you tell me what time it is? I have lost all track of time.” I said after about, what felt to me, thirty seconds of hard thought.
Looking at his watch, with that ever-present smile that he’d worn since my arrival, he announced, “It is 3:18 on a beautiful June afternoon.”
“3:18!” I gasped. “That means I’ve been here…”
“About an hour and a half.” He filled in the ending.
I couldn’t believe that it had only been an hour and a half. I knew more time had elapsed since I had gotten here. At least it felt to me as if it should have!
“Damn!” I muttered as much to myself as to anyone around me.
“Look!” He said to my utterance. “I’ll be by to talk to you if I can and I make my rounds about once an hour. I’ll check on how you are doing when I come by.” He looked at me with a sympathetic glance as he started to walk away. “Like I told you earlier if you need any thing give me a yell.”

I sat down on my bunk and lowered my face into my arms on my lap. ‘God, why does this shit always happen to me?’ I thought as I sat there. What a day this had turned into. ‘Well, it will take a lot to top today!’ went through my mind. I didn’t pay attention to the hallucinations as I sat there. I tried to clear my mind and focus on something tangible.
I don’t know how long I sat there but suddenly I heard the policeman ask me, “How are you hanging in there, Mr. Page?”
I raised my head to see him gazing down at me. The smile was on his face but he still had that sympathetic expression, also. Standing up on wobbly legs and trying to keep my balance I replied, “As good as can be expected. I didn’t realize it was time for your rounds yet.”

“Just checking to see that you’re alright. I guess you were asleep the last time I came through, you didn’t mover much.” He told me. “It’s about 5:30 PM and dinner will be served in about a half hour. I hope that you can eat something.” He had such a caring radiance about him that I couldn’t help but like him. I didn’t realize that their ranks held such caring person’s working in their midst. I actually felt as easy and at peace as could be expected of any two people. He felt more like a close friend than a police- man. I felt like we could sit around a table smoking some good gonja and having a good rap session.
“I feel a hell of a lot better than I did when I was picked up! I must have gone out. I didn’t think that much time went by.” I told him, truthfully. “Do you have any idea when I can escape this place?” I was questioning him trying to get some information.
With an apologetic look on his face he told me, “Not until a doctor can examine you. That won’t be until tomorrow.” I must have had a depressed look on my face because he said, “It won’t be as long as you imagine.”
‘Yea, right!’ I thought. “You’re out there.” I said to him. “By now, not only is my friend that I went to the show with worried about what happened to me but my girlfriend is probably wondering why I haven’t talked to her. For all I know she is thinking that I’m with some other broad.”

With a perplexed look on his face he told me, “Law says we hold you until released by a physician. Can’t bend or brake it when it’s spelled out in plain English like that.” He was acting very courteous. This must have been the good cop you think you should get when you get one of those gung ho m…f...ers that think the world is their playground and we are all pawns in their game of cops and robbers. I really did like this man. “Like I said dinner will be here in twenty minutes or so.” With a very compassionate look to him he said to me, “Try to rest and the night will pass easier for the both of us.” He paused for a second as he was walking away and turned back to me again. “Like I said, I’ll be by whenever I get a chance. If things get too bad for ya’, just give me a holler.”
When he said this the dude in the cell on my left started hollering, “Help! Help!”
The officer turned to his left and told the smart ass, “I already know what your scream sounds like, Junior! Remember how you screamed when they brought you in?” He winked in my direction then walked away!

I tried to do as he had directed. I lay back on my bunk and closed my eyes. So much was happening in my head that I couldn’t think very well and whenever I closed my eyes the acid took over and I hallucinated like crazy. The weird things that were presented to my sight every time I closed my eyes were remarkable. I saw colors materialize then blend with other colors. Different shapes projected themselves onto the inside of my eyelids, or so it appeared to me. I was beginning to mellow out a bit but the LSD had a strong hold onto me and was still very active. Wow! This was a trip like none I had taken before. Ooowee!

It must have worked because I was awakened by the trustee tapping on my cell bars. “Hey, tripper! Wake your ass up or miss your food.”
“Wow!” I expressed. “Damn, I’m still here.” I remarked as I opened my eyes and realized that I was still in jail.
“No shit, Sherlock!” said the trustee as he slid my food through the opening in the bars. “Where did you think you were gonna wake up at?”

“Hey man.” Michael said as I reached for my food. “You doing all right?”
By the time I was ready to answer him the trustee was giving him his food. It had only taken a few seconds to answer him, I thought, or this trustee must have been fast.
“Yea, I’m doing all right except for being in here and being stoned to the bone.” I informed him as I ate my jail dinner. Eating at this point of my trip was not hard for me to do as I can eat no matter how trashed I am! Of course jail food is not the kind of thing to base your normal diet on.
After he took a few bites from his food Michael looked up at me and told me, “You look a little better than you did when they brought you in. You had weird, wild looking eyes.” He took a mouth full, chewed and swallowed, then said to me, “I’ve been in here for around six weeks and you’re about the coolest cookie I’ve seen come through here. Others would have cracked by now. I got to really give you a lot of credit.”

I ate another bit of food and remarked to him, “Strong mind, useless body. I’m about five foot nine inches of quivering shit on the inside. It’s about the you that you’re projecting to others. Act like you know what you’re doing and most people just assume that you do. It’s how you come off to others that they see.” It suddenly felt like my buzz just took a hit of gas because my mind started to jumble things and my hallucinations got more intense. I took a few more bites of food not realizing the food I was consuming was adding fresh calories to my gas tank. “Wow!” was all I could say. Holy shit! I lay back against the wall behind my bunk staring through the bars straight ahead. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry any more.

“Hey man! Your wild eyes are back!” He exclaimed in disbelief as he observed my radical change from mellow and cool to wild looking and who knows what. It’s not like I would freak out any more or anything!
“Yea! And so is my headfucker!” I tried to set up but when I did the bars started to wobble which after a few seconds looked kinda cool. I giggled a little and kept trying to get up and then going back limp against the wall. This was cool!
“Uh, whatcha’ doin’” Michael asked me in disbelief. “Does that have any, like, therapeutic value?” He was slowly backing away from his bars.
I began to laugh out loud. Not just a hah, hah it was a HAH, HAH! I sat forward and stopped moving. “Cool out, Michael! I’m OK I just realized that it was an affect of the food. Vitamins and stuff in the food acts as fuel for the acid. Neat but it won’t last long.” I muttered to myself as much to myself as to the man in the cell across from mine. I chuckled to myself a little bit and sat back and watched the acid show while it lasted.
“As long as you’re cool, man.” He replied in a rather dubious tone. I think he may have had second thoughts about whether I was all right or not.