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and some friends harassed a street bum and poured a liquor bottle over the bum’s head.
    I met Shenge Ka Pharaoh (whose real name was Selwyn O’Brien) before Jean did when I was working at the Berlin nightclub as a bartender. Shenge worked at Reggae Lounge. Then Shenge was always around. He did everything for Jean. He cleaned, ran errands, bought drugs and was a buffer for Jean from people and situations Jean did not want to deal with. Shenge always loved me and always referred to me as Jean-Michel’s woman. He had a charming Barbados accent. I think that Jean was probably closer to Shenge than any other friend he had. In my opinion even closer to him than Andy Warhol. Andy was really only around in the latter part of Jean’s life when Jean was famous already. Andy was Jean’s connection to other famous people.
    Jean trusted Shenge with all his secrets.
    Shenge was very small, thin, fragile and gentle looking. He had a beautiful face with small features and sparkling eyes. He had a full beard, dreadlocks and soft loose-fitting, flowing clothes and he had a profound spirituality about him. He was always around Jean until the last few months of Jean’s life. I asked Jean where Shenge was and Jean told me that they had had a falling-out and that they were not friends anymore. This was typical. Every person that was close to Jean eventually had a fight with him. I think it scared Jean to have people get too close.
    Shenge was part of the family. I loved Shenge too. Shenge and I still see each other occasionally on the street. We both have this look in our eyes like only the two of us shared some kind of deep experience. We don’t have to say anything. We just hug each other and know. Shenge more than anyone knew what I went through with Jean. And I know what he went through too. We are the only people that share both the ecstatic and hellish experience of Jean. Jean behaved a certain way with Andy Warhol. He did not show his whole self to Andy. Because both Shenge and I lived with Jean, we knew the whole person. We knew how deeply compassionate and loving he could be at one moment and then suddenly become cruel, cold and angry. It was basically either me or Shenge who lived with Jean. Most times it was the three of us hanging out.
    One night I had been out with Rene Ricard, after living in the Crosby Street loft, and Jean was now living with Shenge at the Great Jones loft. Rene and I were with T. doing coke at a party. Then T. invited us back to his house. Rene told me to go and said he would be back shortly. So I went, but I was really frightened of T. (who is a very famous gallery owner in SoHo). I only went because I thought Rene would be there too. Rene never showed up.
    Immediately T. began to act very strange. He asked me how big Jean’s penis was and if it was true that Jean had herpes. I was very scared.
    Then T. took his pants off and started chasing me around with a rolled-up newspaper in his hand. I was terrified and I ranout the door. He followed me with no pants on and wearing just a white shirt and a tie. It was really a ridiculous sight. I was very high on coke and scared that he was going to rape me.
    In the street I jumped into a cab and went home. I put on my pajamas and tried to sleep but I couldn’t. I kept crying and crying. So I put my coat on over my pajamas and put on my shoes and sunglasses and took a bottle of Rémy with me in the pocket of my coat.
    As I walked to the Great Jones Street loft I drank the Rémy to come down from the coke. I was really drunk by the time I got there. I knocked on the door and Shenge answered.
    He said, “You would not want Jean to see you in this state.”
    I said, “Why not? I’ve seen him in worse states than this. Shenge,” I continued, “something terrible just happened to me. Please, I have to talk to him.”
    So Shenge let me in. When Jean heard my voice he came running down from the bedroom. He threw the television at me from the top of the stairs. I was