"You’re not going to eat any more without me?" Jules meant the mushrooms.
"No," I say. "I’m going to sleep, if I can."
"Ok," she says.
But after her show I just went home and watched movies. I couldn’t sleep. I was starting The Matrix for the third time when she got back. And she was tired, then, and it rubbed off on me, because we both got a half-an-hour nap before I walked her back for her evening show. This time when we walked by 3rd and Main, it was worse, and I was less trippy, and I knew that we were in real danger. These people didn’t just want to talk shit—they wanted to start shit. There were only so many times you could walk past that block without getting hit.