There were three of us girls on First Avenue between Eighth and Ninth. One of my roommates met Nev at this café on MacDougal where she was waitressing at the time. So she brings him home along with a couple bottles of wine she’d made off with, and she says to him, “Hey, you gotta play that funny song for my friends!” He picks up his guitar and does an early version of “Chemist Kismet,” right there in our living room. He camped out on our couch for a month and a half. We were very modern girls, so I’m sure Nev got upgraded from that couch a few of those nights. But maybe I’m only speaking for
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