So there I was, stranger in a very strange land. All those naked bodies, faces painted, bands playing, people dancing. Everybody happy.
"Hey, man!"
I looked up. A woman, naked of course. Kind of dumpy, pendulous breasts, spots.
"Why don't you take your threads off, enjoy yourself?" she wondered in a Southern accent.
"Um, um, um ... "
"It's okay," she said. "Keep them on, take them off, whatever. But sure is nice to let it all hang out, y'know?"
Peer pressure, I suppose. Slowly, I removed my jersey, folded it neatly, placed it on the ground. Shoes, socks, trousers, same. I glanced over.
"All right, I'll turn around," she giggled.
Then in a move I never thought possible, I peeled off my knickers.
"Great!" she exclaimed. "Hey, I'm Janis. Capricorn." She waited.
"Barry. I'm, er, a Leo."
"Groovy. I dig Leos!"
She took me by the hand, led me into the throng of fleshy humanity, introduced me to a number of friendly people.
"Gotta split," she then said. "I'm up next."
And that was the last I saw of her. Oh, I did spot her a few days later on a billboard outside the Fillmore Theatre. "Biggest star on the rock scene!", it announced.
I hardly recognisedJanis Joplin with clothes on.