Richard Grayson

A 21-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Late September, 1972

I saw Debbie, who was – as usual – depressed and depressing. Perhaps she was just having her period. That’s always the way I figure I can excuse girls’ black moods. I wish guys had that excuse, too; I’d be having my period a couple of times a week.

A 21-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Early September, 1972

Dr. Wouk said all I’ve got now are “pieces of people,” and I’ll have to give up these parts of people if I want a “whole” of one girl. “I assume you mean ‘whole’ with a W,” I said. To Dr. Wouk’s credit, she cracked up.

A 21-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Late August, 1972

Lying on my bed, Stacy and I had a really good talk. It was all very nice: she played the guitar, and I felt that she really is a good, gentle person. “Are you seeing anyone seriously?” she asked me. “I’m seeing a lot of people comically,” I said.

A 21-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Late July, 1972

Marc and I drove into the city to see if we could find any scalpers selling tickets to tonight’s Stones concert. About two thousand other people had the same idea, and there were freaks and kids everywhere, asking, “You got a ticket?”

A 21-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Early July, 1972

We drove over to the Diplomat this morning for a delegates’ breakfast, then I took a drive downtown and was outside the Convention Hall, near the Jackie Gleason Theatre. There was very tight security, and barbed wire, and things were cordoned off.

A 21-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Mid-June, 1972

I was getting this really bad case of horniness, but when we went upstairs to watch soap operas, I chickened out. We talked all around the subject but I couldn’t find the words to ask her to sleep with me.

A 20-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Late May, 1972

I started a conversation with their friend Vito, whom I’d never seen around before. For some reason, I blurted out, “My ex-girlfriend is getting married today.” “I’ve heard that line before from guys in bars,” Vito said.