Sally (1963)
Oh God! What a freak. We were all fleeing the Village on to Tangier to live and die wasted on Majum or Hash or whatever. I was a nineteen, snowy Norwegian blonde from Minnesota but lived the last four on East Fourteenth with my sister in law Maureen who was kind enough to take me in when I ran away. She ran away first leaving my brother. I ran after her when I realized that this was my only way out of the bowling, all you can eat buffet, sub culture of Lumneck, Minnesota.
But what a freak that Garbo was. 23 of us on the Yugoslav Freighter bound for Tangier. All of us from Lower Manhattan and here comes number 24. We spotted him right away, all tan and jock looking California schmuck. Turns out somebody who booked passage, overdosed and Garbo grabbed the vacancy at the last minute.
We were asked to gather on the prow before sailing. It was a most beautiful morning on the battery. Captain Valid, spoke tolerable English. He kind of spelled out the rules of the voyage. I just remember the part about dinner hour and don’t disturb the crew, and that our assigned quarters were posted in the mass hall. So it broke down 12 girls and 12 guys. Two dorms with six double bunks each. Toilet and shower down the hall. What do you want for $129?
The day passed as everyone waved goodbye to the statue and watched Manhattan disappear. Then it was dinner and we were all starved since there was no lunch that first day. This was the first time we were all together in one room. Our waiters were so young, cool and foxy with their Marshal Tito moustache (later Garbo told me this was the moustache he would emulate). The food was rich and tasty but I have no idea what it was. Rice, I could identify. After dinner we all hung around not knowing what else to do.
Some of us knew each other from the Village or around the East End. We were all young, nobody looked over thirty. And this guy, Sandy, stood up and kind of became a master of ceremonies. He asked everyone to stand and say our name. He was a portly, utterly lovable guy with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a Jewish affable warmth that took over the room.
“ I’m Sandford Cohen call me Sandy, this is my wife Sarah and on behalf of this half kilo of Sahara Red, I ask who can roll a decent joint?”
Then we were all pulling out our stash and smoking good weed, except Garbo who politely declined. Turns out he was a dope virgin!
But no party pooper… Garbo went into the pantry and came out with a giant bottle of Yugoslavian Vodka with a steward carrying a tray of small glasses. Following close behind: another steward with a record player.
It would appear that Sandy had a competitor. But no! They hugged and seemed to really dig each other. Soon we were drunk, dancing, and or stoned. I know I thought in my doped up daze,’ is we going to party like this for fourteen days at sea?’
Somehow we all spilled out on to the moonlit deck where Garbo proposed we all play a “California Game” he called ‘pile’. The game he said begins with all of us in a pile. Well… we were all fucked up enough to play along and onto the main hatch we went, Garbo directing us, “You on top of her, that’s it… now you three get closer, up you go, make the pile higher, good” So we are all discombobulated into this giant pile of protoplasm, and Garbo yells,“Get what you can”. Laughing hysterically we start grabbing dicks and tits and howling along not in a sexual way, but in a fun way … What a freak.
After… we lay outstretched looking up and enjoying the stars and giggling at it. When this loud bell begins to ring.
Sandy appears and yells “Oh my god, Garbo rang the bell to abandon Ship!”
