My First Hippy

After I got settled in, I walked back to the common area to poor over some maps of San Francisco. As I sat there I was interrupted by a scraggly looking man with a mane of long grey hair that had been tied back into a pony tail. He swaggered into the room holding a cheep bottle of red wine and swilling some of it from a coffee mug he daintily carried with him. He made his way through the room and came to a rest hovering over my back side looking down at my maps. I awkwardly sat there waiting to see if he would say something when finally he spoke “hmmnndm first time in San Fran?” I turned around toward him to answer, but he wouldn’t give me a chance. “Hmmngggm man you should have been here back in the day it was a crazy time man…….It was……hmmmmg a crazy time.” He bobbled his head up and down and began laughing to himself as he went on and on about the 60’s and all the people he used to know, describing the times with his three word vocabulary using “trippy , crazy and hmmmengg” incessantly. “So man the 60’s hmmmmngg….what a trippy time man, we were crazy back then! Hmmmmngg it was crazy man, what a trippy time man. I’m friends with the guy that started! Started! The whole hippy movement man! What a trip man, you wouldn’t believe him man, he’s the trippiest guy you’ll ever meet man! WOW! He’ll blow your mind you got to meet him man! He’s down in LA, thinks he’s an actor or poet or some shit. You ever seen Blade Runner man? He was in that! I’ll give you his number man, I always send people down to meat him man, hes going to love you.” I let this train of thought slide right out of his brain as the conversation then drifted off from there into what a disappointment San Francisco had become today, as he put it “All them rich pricks gone and moved in man. No more houses to just crash at, you know what I mean man? That’s why I got to stay all the way out here man, cost to much to stay in that fucken city anymore!”