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You're walking past the Bick about 5 in the afternoon and this just incredibly happy looking guy in the fishbowl beckons to you.
Naturally you try to cross the street.
But the light won't change and you kind of peer over your shoulder and he's still there, looking at you. Really seraphically happy. So what the hell. You go inside.
And what do you know. He's not selling marijuana. Fact of the matter is, he's selling clothespins. Or rather, he wants you to go to Woolworth's and buy a bag of clothespins and then wanders around Cambridge clipping them on to things.
Nice fella really. Says his name is Albert Fine. He's very explicit that you shouldn't injure anything. Probably a peace creep.
He doesn't have much of an explanation to offer. "It's a happening, baby," he says. "It's the action not the reason that matters."
So what the hell. You didn't really want to study Chem 20. And it'll be something to tell the fellas back in Q House. You go to Woolworth's.
The counter lady gives you quite the fishy eyeball. Seems there've been about 50 guys in already, asking for clothespins. You figure it's easier not to explain.
So out you trundle on to Brattle St. with your paper sack of "spring" action clothespins, clipping them onto signs and children and Volkswagons and all and just when you're getting to like it the man comes up to you and says, "What's a matta kid? You some kind nut or somethun?"
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