I was now twenty years old, single and had my own apartment when the so called, ‘Second Summer of Love’ kicked off, you know, ecstasy and all that palaver. It was of course brought in by the establishment, as part of another social experiment of theirs. Nothing happens by accident.
There may have been a lot of, ‘Free Love’, in the first ‘Summer of Love’ but I can assure you, by the time the sequel came along …. things had fuckin’ changed, well at least as far as I was concerned. I didn’t see one free pussy, no matter how much ecstasy I consumed.
Sure, I got a lot of ‘free hugs’, but the marketing of free love surely alludes to much more than that. I certainly wasn’t going to pay for pussy because I thought the whole point of pussy was in the conquering of it. Not the purchasing of it, like eggs at a grocery store.
The rave scene was cool at the start when it was still relatively underground but as soon as the mainstream media got a hold of it, much like they did with the hippies and punks, it changed the whole scene into something else and then you would get these young arseholes coming up to you asking, “How much you had tonight mate?”
As if that was the sole objective, to see how much drugs you could take without dying. I hated that patter. I felt like giving them some more so that they would.
I had one friend though that never went near the class A drugs, he only stuck to beer. When we took him to a huge rave at Islington Exhibition Centre, he looked like he’d taken more drugs than everyone else put together.
People would go up to him and say, “Jesus Christ mate, what the fuck you had tonight?” He’d just say, “Tennants”. They’d be like, “Fuckin’ hell. I’m no’ going near that shit”. Fair play to my mate though for not going with peer pressure and messing with his brain in order just to dance like an overactive robot and wake up with lockjaw.
It did backfire on him one night when he passed out at my flat while the rest of us were still high as kites and a friend of a friend who was there, ‘Psycho Dave’, decided to shave his eyebrows.
It was impossible to look at him and not piss yourself laughing. Even the staff in Boots couldn’t do it when they were trying to help him choose fake eyebrow pens, which made him look even more ridiculous, if that were possible.
Cheers!
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