I had only been back in my apartment a few minutes last night when the telephone rang. It was Richard. He was sobbing– said he had wrecked his car over the weekend. He said he needed me. I was there within half an hour. Richard was a total mess. He was incoherent and shaking. Staggering when he tried to walk. His face was bloated and he was obviously drunk and fucked up on valium. He was blubbering about suicide– and begging me to stay the night to make sure he didn’t die in his sleep.
November 28th, 1977
November 28th, 1977
November 28th, 1977
I had only been back in my apartment a few minutes last night when the telephone rang. It was Richard. He was sobbing– said he had wrecked his car over the weekend. He said he needed me. I was there within half an hour. Richard was a total mess. He was incoherent and shaking. Staggering when he tried to walk. His face was bloated and he was obviously drunk and fucked up on valium. He was blubbering about suicide– and begging me to stay the night to make sure he didn’t die in his sleep.