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- 2026-01-27T17:16:48.805Z
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- 3066
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- 2935 17
2936 I was way early when I got there, so I just sat down on one of those leather
2937 couches right near the clock in the lobby and watched the girls. A lot of schools were
2938 home for vacation already, and there were about a million girls sitting and standing
2939 around waiting for their dates to show up. Girls with their legs crossed, girls with their
2940 legs not crossed, girls with terrific legs, girls with lousy legs, girls that looked like swell
2941 girls, girls that looked like they'd be bitches if you knew them. It was really nice
2942 sightseeing, if you know what I mean. In a way, it was sort of depressing, too, because
2943 you kept wondering what the hell would happen to all of them. When they got out of
2944 school and college, I mean. You figured most of them would probably marry dopey guys.
2945 Guys that always talk about how many miles they get to a gallon in their goddam cars.
2946 Guys that get sore and childish as hell if you beat them at golf, or even just some stupid
2947 game like ping-pong. Guys that are very mean. Guys that never read books. Guys that are
2948 very boring--But I have to be careful about that. I mean about calling certain guys bores. I
2949 don't understand boring guys. I really don't. When I was at Elkton Hills, I roomed for
2950 about two months with this boy, Harris Mackim. He was very intelligent and all, but he
2951 was one of the biggest bores I ever met. He had one of these very raspy voices, and he
2952 never stopped talking, practically. He never stopped talking, and what was awful was, he
2953 never said anything you wanted to hear in the first place. But he could do one thing. The
2954 sonuvabitch could whistle better than anybody I ever heard. He'd be making his bed, or
2955 hanging up stuff in the closet--he was always hanging up stuff in the closet--it drove me
2956 crazy--and he'd be whistling while he did it, if he wasn't talking in this raspy voice. He
2957 could even whistle classical stuff, but most of the time he just whistled jazz. He could
2958 take something very jazzy, like "Tin Roof Blues," and whistle it so nice and easy--right
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2959 while he was hanging stuff up in the closet--that it could kill you. Naturally, I never told
2960 him I thought he was a terrific whistler. I mean you don't just go up to somebody and say,
2961 "You're a terrific whistler." But I roomed with him for about two whole months, even
2962 though he bored me till I was half crazy, just because he was such a terrific whistler, the
2963 best I ever heard. So I don't know about bores. Maybe you shouldn't feel too sorry if you
2964 see some swell girl getting married to them. They don't hurt anybody, most of them, and
2965 maybe they're secretly all terrific whistlers or something. Who the hell knows? Not me.
2966 Finally, old Sally started coming up the stairs, and I started down to meet her. She
2967 looked terrific. She really did. She had on this black coat and sort of a black beret. She
2968 hardly ever wore a hat, but that beret looked nice. The funny part is, I felt like marrying
2969 her the minute I saw her. I'm crazy. I didn't even like her much, and yet all of a sudden I
2970 felt like I was in love with her and wanted to marry her. I swear to God I'm crazy. I admit
2971 it.
2972 "Holden!" she said. "It's marvelous to see you! It's been ages." She had one of
2973 these very loud, embarrassing voices when you met her somewhere. She got away with it
2974 because she was so damn good-looking, but it always gave me a pain in the ass.
2975 "Swell to see you," I said. I meant it, too. "How are ya, anyway?"
2976 "Absolutely marvelous. Am I late?"
2977 I told her no, but she was around ten minutes late, as a matter of fact. I didn't give
2978 a damn, though. All that crap they have in cartoons in the Saturday Evening Post and all,
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