“Guys, when I stop the car–and I am totally not kidding about this–let me talk to the cops.”
Bobby asked the lady if she was Pigpen’s girlfriend. She was a bit confused and a tad offended; after being reminded that Pig had been dead for around a decade, Bobby was sad.
“I heard your song Estimated Prophet. Bobby, why do you play reggae wrong?
Attempting at humor, Bobby referred to himself as “Highly Selassie” and, you know: that’s their religion, so they got pissed and started goofing on him in a language that was still technically English, but no white guy from Mill Valley could ever comprehend.
(Side note: how sincere are Rastafarians? Not Chad with the dreads who goes home every other weekend to do his laundry, real Jamaican dudes. You know who I’m talking about: 5% body fat, holding a machete? I always figured they were at least 30 percent just making it up as they went, and clearly aware of the fact.)
“Please don’t let Billy show up. Please don’t let Billy show up.”