August 27th, 1967

At the I & Thou Café, a girl is taking up a collection for Chocolate George, a Hell's Angel killed in a motorcycle accident. Music & dancing in the park tomorrow. Big Brother & the Dead. After the funeral.

Black guy on speed sits at our table.

"Are you Christians?" he asks. "Do you believe in the Immaculate Conception? Do you believe Christ said, 'Forgive them Father for they know not what they do?' "

He explains the creation of the world.

"You know how I came along?” he says. “They was just joy-popping & I was an accident. They didn't care about me. They were just seeking pleasure. The world came about by Nature or God or whatever it is in the same way. It was a fuck-up! And once you're here you survive the best you can."

Says he spent 5 years in Folsom Prison.

He’s looking for a wider discussion of blackness, relationship of Negro to whites on Haight Street, so many white chicks making it with spades.

Becomes monologue, repeating how often he’s made it with white chicks—making fun of reactions by white guys, boasting about his intellectual abilities, how he can cleverly control a white table. I felt this was a power trip, this desire to overwhelm us.

When he leaves I ask Rachel if she thinks perfect integration is ever possible.

"Listen, baby,” she says, “when they all get together, there'll be three times as many as us, and it'll be up to them to decide what they want to do with us!"

Kid starts playing guitar & singing loudly in middle of floor. When he's finished he keeps repeating how much he's turned on to people tonight, how much he really loves everybody.

He sits at our table. Just got out of psychiatric hospital in Austin—shows Rachel scars on his wrists.

Girl whose guitar he used comes over & berates him for not asking permission.

"This chick is uptight because I used her ax!" he screams, trying to embarrass her.

He asks Rachel if she has a place to crash, she says no. He starts crying with his head on the table, parasitic once he gets pity. Latching on more & more. When we start to leave, he says he's afraid to be alone, begs her not to go.

Outside she gets uptight about feeling responsible for him & also the lack of time for us.

"I don't want to fuck tonight," she says as we walk down Haight Street. "I want to make love."

» September 6th, 1967 : Mona Gets The Clap