Not the One - Part Three

Next door to the Straight Theater was the I and Thou Coffee House.  It was very hip, or it tried to be. Since I was also trying to be hip, it was perfect.  There I met Zachary, with his beard, wiry frame and impish grin. He was as hip as they got. he was cool. He drank coffee at the I and Thou and he seemed to always be there.

I didn't get any better than that.  When it was down time at the Straight, which was often between shows. And where was the baby? you are asking yourself. Good question.  Probably with the little gnome who also resided in Ingleside and watched the baby before I came along and after I left. 

Did Zachary (always Zachary, never Zach) and i discuss philosophy? Music? Child raising? I don't remember a thing that was said (Ok, there is something to that whole "If you lived through the sixties, you can't remember it" thing), but I am sure it was fascinating and enlightening.

How many nights we sat there drinking coffee and talking I don't remember either, but somewhere along the way I started to get the distinct feel that Zachary was going to be the one. The one I would do "It" with at long last and finally get some mileage out of the birth control pills I'd been using since April, when Jane had taken me to her quack doctor and had me get a prescription. (The doctor was a quack, I now know, because he also handed our scrpts for all manner of "diet pills" without so much as requiring a physical, but I wouldn't be using those for a few more months). 

The night started out like any other. Zachary and I drinking coffee in the I and Thou, talking about this and that, when Zachary gets a twinkle in his already sparkly eyes and says, "Do you want to try something?"  

Ooo, I think., what is he asking me to try. (I already have a filthy mind for an 18 year olf virgin).

He says, "Windowpane," revealing a small square of what looks like cellophane in his hand.

"Really?" I ask. Acid. The good stuff.  I have heard of this, but never been invited on a "trip" before. It was just two months ago, I was right out of Christian college having my first Budweiser in Wendy Kellum's living room.

"We'll split." He produced a razor blade and cut the piee of cellophane right down the middle. "You put it on your tongue." He reched over and put it on mine, then popped the other half in his mouth.

"No what?"

"No we wait."

Sipping coffee, waiting, with Zachary.