Patti Boyd: The dentist who spiked my coffee with LSD
5th August 2007
The Daily Mail
Drugs were a part of our lives in the Sixties. The Beatles had been introduced to marijuana by Bob Dylan during an American tour. We also took downers and uppers.
Whenever John Lennon visited George and me at our home in Esher, our cleaner, Margaret, would say to him 'Have you got any of those lovely pills?' and John would give her an upper. Afterwards she would vacuum like a maniac.
None of us used heroin but we took acid – LSD – regularly. Our dentist, John Riley, had turned us on to it.
He and his girlfriend invited John, his wife Cynthia, George and me to dinner at his house in Hyde Park Square one evening in 1965. We knew him quite well and had been to a few clubs with him in the past. The four of us drove to London in my little Mini Cooper S.
We had a lovely meal and as we prepared to leave – we were due to watch some friends playing at a club – Riley's girlfriend jumped to her feet and said: 'You haven't had any coffee yet. It's ready, I've made it – and it's delicious.'
We drank the coffee but by then we were really keen to get away. John said: 'We must go now. Our friends are going to be on soon. It's their first night.'
Riley told him: 'You can't leave.'
'What are you talking about?' asked John.
'You've just had LSD. It was in the coffee.'
John was absolutely furious. 'How dare you f****** do this to us,' he said. George and I said: 'Do what?' We didn't know what LSD was.
John said: 'It's a drug.' As it began to take effect we felt even more strongly that we didn't want to be there.
We were desperate to escape. Riley said he would drive us but we ignored him and piled into my Mini, which seemed to be shrinking. All the way to the club the car felt smaller and smaller, and by the time we arrived we were completely out of it.
People kept recognising George and coming up to him. They were moving in and out of focus, and looked like animals. We clung to each other.
Soon we moved on to a different club which we knew – we thought we might feel better in familiar surroundings. We walked to the venue and I remember trying to break a window on the way.
The club was on an upper floor and we thought the lift was on fire because there was a little red light inside. As the doors opened, we crawled out and bumped into Mick Jagger, Marianne Faithfull and Ringo.
John told them we'd been spiked. The effect of the drug was getting stronger and stronger, and we were all in hysterics.
When we sat down, the table elongated. Hours later we decided to go home. We climbed into the car again and this time George drove – at no more than 10mph all the way to Esher – but it felt as though he was doing 1,000mph.
At one point, I saw some goalposts and said: 'Let's jump out and play football.'
The journey took hours and it was daylight by the time we got home. We locked the gates so that the cleaner wouldn't come in and find us. The drug took about eight hours to wear off, but it was very frightening and we never spoke to the dentist again