The only problem was the money. The program cost $350. That was more than he made in a month, even before deductions.He had been in town only a year. ...urning twenty just as the mad and glorious sixties were ending, he had hopped a westward-bound Greyhound and somehow ended up in LA.Six months later he had scraped together enough. He mailed out a money order for $350. This had damn well better be worth it. Here he was, broke, working at a minimum wage job, inexperienced sexually, and having the. My back ached and my head throbbed, but it was the soreness between my legs that dominated my thoughts.That and the reason why I was so sore.It was not the first time I had woken aching in a tent. It was not the first time I had woken with a hangover. To my shame, it was not even the first time I had woken with the dried, crispy evidence of sex sticking to my lower belly and upper thighs, and my head full of doubts, questions and regrets.But it most certainly was the first time this condition. More

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