Flow My Tears, the Policeman said; Chapter 22

After dropping off the packages, Jason and Mary sit in a nice coffee shop, "a clean and attractive place with young waitresses and a reasonably loose patronage." A jukebox (man, when did those stop being a thing) plays music. Mary asks about those records Jason is carrying, "oh, you made these?" when she reads the name on them. They start talking about music; Mary isn't much of a fan of modern, but likes old stuff, like Buffy St. Marie. Jason agrees with that, but rather understandably is obsessing over what happened back at the mansion. Mary can see something is heavily weighing on him, but Jason doesn't say much. Mary reads the bio on the back of the record, and discovers Jason Taverener is apparently big, with a show on NBC. Jason is amused when Mary asks how it feels not to be recognized. Mary then wonders if the jukebox in the corner would have anything by Jason.

Mary goes and returns, saying "Nowhere Nuthin' Fuck Up, it should play next." Jason rushes the "Babylonian Gothic" structure of the jukebox, and selection B4 (lol) is Jason Taverner's latest song. It plays through the cafe. Mary says Jason is a great singer. Jason is numb and reeling a bit, and he and Mary get into a brief conversation about artists and people's reaction to them. Jason says that reactions are no way to judge your worth, since in people generally you can find the opposite of whatever reaction be it positive and negative, and intellectuals and critics are mostly overthinking bullshitters.

Jason then realizes he needs to make a call. He phones General Buckman, getting through by saying it involves Alys, but gets only as far as Herbert Maime. Maime starts winding an interrogation spiel, so Jason hangs up. Jason is once again feeling Phillip K. Dick post drug paranoia, wondering what the hell happened at the mansion: if it was real, if the mescaline was still working on him. He turns to that drug he was given. What if it wasn't mescaline?

Then two kids come over and say "Hey, you're Jason Taverner, aren't you?" They get an autograph, saying they always watch his show on Tuesday nights. Jason sees his reality leaking back, and is naturally wildly elated. His first thought is that he can call Heather Hart now, and she won't hang up on him. Then the paranoia slaps a wet salmon across his face: what if his identity is the result of Alys' drug? He'd been unknowingly taking this fantastic drug, then somehow missed a dose and woke up in reality. Logic riposte this notion with some counter-battery fire: he woke up in reality with a literal gigantic wad of cash, which makes no sense if he's a permanent druggie from Watts. Similarly it makes his total lack of ID, police or otherwise even more baffling, if that were possible.

Paranoia is a mouth that cannot be stuffed with logic, though - the notion that maybe he is part of a legion of mediocrities who are medicated to believe they are astonishingly successful haunts him. While he's spinning all this, Mary just lets him spin. Once he comes out of it, Mary says he's a brown study, so Jason gets her to play his song three more times. This convinces Jason he exists, goddamnit.

Mary, despite being a modest woman in her twenties who makes pots, is clearly concerned for Jason, as he's been acting objectively nuts. So she agrees to take him back to her apartment, as she has an old stereo record-player there.