Get Used To It

A Story by Steve Paschall

My first night in Frisco, I met a local who decided we should go to the Pall Mall Saloon on Haight Street. He knew the owner and the patrons and introduced me. One woman said "Welcome Home Brother!" She gave me a great big hug, then she took a step back, looked me over and said "What took you so long?" The Pall Mall, I would learn was the sole surviving bar from the '60's on the Haight.

As I'm sitting at a table in the pool room (where drugs were

openly being sold) a kid of about 19 or 20 joined me and informed me that he had just eaten 3/4 ounce of 'shrooms. A few minutes later he asked me if his feet were still there. I looked down at his feet on the black & white checker board floor, and being on acid, I could see how that checker board floor could throw you off and make you wonder if your feet were still there. I answered calmly, Yes, your feet are still there. but he was uncolsoled and becoming worried, once more, he asked "Are my knees still there?" I answered "yes, your knees are still there" to no avail. Now, almost agitated - "My Nose! Is it there?" YES! His next statement happened to be a dilema that I was facing myself at the time and I had already given it much thought so I countered quickly, calmly and perhaps flippantly. When he said "I'm Gonna Die!!" I said "You'll Get Used To It." He countered "Call the Paramedics!" On my way to the phone I met a guy in army fatigues, beret cap and patches and pins as if he were still in. I told him what was happening. He took charge and said "Make your call, then we'll take the kid out front and wait with him so that the cops don't come inside the bar." Now, I'm just following orders and if you haven't done that for a while it can seem agreeable.