Oh and while we on the topic
John M. Trusy partied with the Beatles in Key West and recounted for Larry and the audience a brief summary of that night in Key West.
Beatleology Magazine Nov/Dec 2006
The lounge was packed with people as I threaded my way to the bar to get a drink. When I turned around the very first Beatle I saw that night was Paul. We literally bumped into each other, nearly spilling our drinks. Paul gave me that patented wink of his (but no thumbs up) as if to say, ‘There are more than enough women here tonight for the both of us.” Paul could really work the room as it were and I had to admire his technique. He was magnificent in action as he went around chatting up one girl after another looking for that right combination of looks, willingness and response.
I did not see John play but I had an amazing exchange with him that to this day makes me say “What was I thinking?!” John and I seemed to gravitate to the bar at the same time and as I recall he was wearing jeans and white long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. At 6’2” and 195 lbs. I towered over John and I was thinking his was an unusual style of dress here in the Keys. The customary clothes everyone wore at the time were madras plaid shorts and some sort of t-shirt. Our clothing was only one of the many disparaging differences between the two of us. I looked at his hair and jokingly wanted to say to him, “Get a haircut” but I didn’t. For some strange reason, I kept my mouth shut. John probably thought I looked like a “mod” from Liverpool. We were so out of touch with each other and from vastly different worlds; we were opposites in many visible ways.
We began to check each other out as we approached the bar, just like two guys when they are about to use the urinal at a sports event. We nodded at each other, then stood shoulder to shoulder and looked toward the mirror in the back bar. It was at this time I started to stare at his hands because I was fascinated with what I saw. In one hand he was holding a lit, very long filter cigarette (Lark’s I think) with the burning end palm side. When he took a drag, he turned his hand over as he brought the cigarette to his mouth to inhale. I had just witnessed the European style of smoking, “very, very strange” to me indeed. In John’s other hand was a very large glass of Scotch and Coke, a combination favored by the Beatles while on the 1964 tour. This was no ordinary bar glass he was holding. Just as I was amazed at the size of the drink, I want to tell you, he didn’t just politely sip it either. I thought how could this guy, who is a lot smaller than I am, be a big hitter with booze than I was. For the uninformed a Scotch and Coke is a fairly terrible drink, you really have to acquire a taste for it. I still have a penchant for Scotch (without the Coke) to this day, thanks to John and a local Key West girl who became very compliant after she drank what John and the rest of the Beatles did.
Lennon could not help but notice my staring at his hands and to his credit he tried to be cordial and break the ice. He turned to me and said, “Would you like a fag?” I was totally unprepared for the question. In this country especially in Key West, even back then, to me there was only one meaning. In the U.K. it meant, “Would you like a cigarette?” Not a world traveler, I was numbed and confused by the meaning of the offer. I responded with a very lame, “No thanks man, I’m just here to pick up the chicks!” John, who was much more cosmopolitan and very quick to understand my interpretation, replied with a very terse, “Well, good luck to you then, man!” He picked up his Scotch, Coke and fags and turned away to circulate. Forty-two years later I still wonder what direction my life may have taken if I just had said, “sure.”
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