August 5th, 1967

At Nathan's, he’s met guy named Frank & offered him a place to crash.

Frank woke up one morning, went to kitchen for breakfast, stopped, looked around, said: "Fuck it."

Packed his bags, left, & called his wife 3 days later to tell her they were getting divorced.

He also told Draft Board to go fuck itself. 8 appeals in California. He figures it'll take 15-20 years to convict him & then the judge will probably throw out the case.

Richard the speed freak stops by. Hoping Nathan will front him $650 to cop a lot of meth. Claims it’s the best stuff he's ever had.

"That block had to be pounded with a hammer to powder it," he tells Nathan.

Some dealers cut meth with Otto's Meat Tenderizer & baking soda, he says.

"People who fool around with this shit should know they're fucking with somebody's life.”

He’s crouched on floor, smells bad, gaunt face, goatee, constantly picking at his shoulder & flexing his arm, making fist, shaking foot.

Quick to lower his eyes after a remark & then quick to raise them again, a bit surprised that someone responds or laughs at what he says.

Nathan likes him though. He gives Nathan sample of crystal. Nathan snorts a bit, but doesn't want to do any more because he's just come off mescaline.

Nathan talks about the smack he took in Pittsburgh—7 people died from it that week. Nathan has possibly taken every drug there is.

Vicki & Janet holler across the backyards from their window. They come over, smoke hash.

Vicki telling story about speed freak named Billy Wayne who thought he was a cannibal. Said he ate 6 people. One night he came in with catsup on his pants, insisting the cops shot him.

"But, Billy Wayne,” she told him, “there's no bullet hole in your leg!"

Guy still claimed he was shot.

Vicki's only 18, didn't finish high school, in mental hospital for 4 months before she came out here. Has taken a lot of drugs, anxious to get back for an acid delivery. Talking about freaking out.

"It hasn't happened yet—so I guess it won't happen—that's what I tell myself!"

After they go home, we notice a small fire along the side of their building. They’re dumping buckets of water from the third floor window. They’re bumping into each other, spilling water all over the place, laughing & screaming. Woman on second floor hangs head out window & gets splashed.

» August 8th, 1967 : Where's Oswald When We Need Him?