Monday, October 02, 2017

C.W. was living in Manhattan and hosting regular parties. Peter Tosh was there, sitting on the couch. He had no dreadlocks. “Downpresser Man” played on the stereo and it sounded ghostly and beautiful, some kind of dub version. I was proud that he was there. We were low on beer, so I asked C. for some money. We both ended up going downstairs to look for a liquor store.