The 60’s: Chapter 14

Army-Navy tent Courtesy of Google Images

Luxurious Accommodations

I finally got fed up, with all the groaty living situations.

Couches, screen porches and one time a big dog house.

I was always with other people. It was a messy way to live.

I was sick to death with all the different and very shitty living conditions I had found myself in.

I needed my own space, without other people in it.

I could no longer bear being exposed to, dirty toilets, unworkable showers, and never being able to find something that had gone missing when I had just set it down moments earlier. I hated that shit!

One day I found a pair of my panties roaring around on the head of a guy, that was screaming “ Look at me, I’m Marie Antoinette!” He had been tripping on acid for three days and had completely lost his footing in reality. Poor thing

The final insult was finding someone using my toothbrush to clean a tree pitch on the heel of their foot and I yelled, “Oh for fucks sake, I’m outta here!”

I grabbed my tatters, my purse with the little blue bag ( Which was now missing a toothbrush), and I blew out the door faster than a fart out of a duck's ass.

I hitched to town and went to sit by the river to reconnoiter the situation I now found myself in.

After doing so I strolled over to the bank, and withdrew 30 tabs of my LSD savings hoard and started heading down to Santa Cruz to buy a one person tent at Army Surplus.

Before I went to Santa Cruz, I stopped in the town of Boulder Brook. It was the next town down the hill from Boulder Creek. I had friends with means that owned a house on about 3/4’s of an acre of land just outside of town.

I was going to sell them tabs for a tent.

My friends Kay and Paul had dropped out with a butt load of cash from their trust funds. They dressed like Edwardian royalty and were always draped in tons of Indian pawn turquoise. They were really kind and lovely people that just happened to be flush with cash. They were my best customers.

I clambered to the top of their driveway and arrived at the door of their gracious residence. I was invited in, given some tea and a friendly little toke.

After an hour of jibber jabber we got down to business.

They knew I was the only person around that could get their hands on, Owsley’s last brew. Those little LSD tabs were going for $10 bucks apiece, they were that rare. I had become Kay and Paul’s little red headed candy girl, and I was always welcome.

While visiting and doing the deal I mentioned my changing circumstances and my plan to ameliorate said circumstances. I told them I was buying a tent.

They asked “ Where the hell are you going to pitch a tent!? I told them I figured I would find a clearing somewhere by the river and potz myself there.

Paul, who was very British, cried out, “ You mad cow, how are you going to find a place in which you can indulge in your nutty grooming fetish?” It was a good question to which I had no answer. They just stared at me in dumbstruck silence.

That was when Paul stepped in with with a plan.

He very kindly offered me a small patch of turf on the back end of their property. It came with an outside shower that just happened to have hot water. I would be able to indulge in my favorite activity, bathing, brushing and scrubbing. My mad skills in this area were the talk of the mountains.

My plan was set and I was on my way to Santa Cruz to collect my temple of joy and delight.

For four months the tent and that nice hot shower would become my luxurious accommodations.

Chapter 14: Soft Landing

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