Properties
- end_line
- 3826
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-27T17:17:48.453Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 3774
- text
- 3613 guts. "They got me. Rocky's mob got me. You know that? Sally, you know that?"
3614 "I can't hear you. Go to bed now. I have to go. Call me tomorrow."
3615 "Hey, Sally! You want me trimma tree for ya? Ya want me to? Huh?"
3616 "Yes. Good night. Go home and go to bed."
3617 She hung up on me.
3618 "G'night. G'night, Sally baby. Sally sweetheart darling," I said. Can you imagine
3619 how drunk I was? I hung up too, then. I figured she probably just came home from a date.
3620 I pictured her out with the Lunts and all somewhere, and that Andover jerk. All of them
3621 swimming around in a goddam pot of tea and saying sophisticated stuff to each other and
3622 being charming and phony. I wished to God I hadn't even phoned her. When I'm drunk,
3623 I'm a madman.
3624 I stayed in the damn phone booth for quite a while. I kept holding onto the phone,
3625 sort of, so I wouldn't pass out. I wasn't feeling too marvelous, to tell you the truth.
3626 Finally, though, I came out and went in the men's room, staggering around like a moron,
3627 and filled one of the washbowls with cold water. Then I dunked my head in it, right up to
3628 the ears. I didn't even bother to dry it or anything. I just let the sonuvabitch drip. Then I
3629 walked over to this radiator by the window and sat down on it. It was nice and warm. It
3630 felt good because I was shivering like a bastard. It's a funny thing, I always shiver like
3631 hell when I'm drunk.
3632 I didn't have anything else to do, so I kept sitting on the radiator and counting
3633 these little white squares on the floor. I was getting soaked. About a gallon of water was
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3634 dripping down my neck, getting all over my collar and tie and all, but I didn't give a
3635 damn. I was too drunk to give a damn. Then, pretty soon, the guy that played the piano
3636 for old Valencia, this very wavyhaired, flitty-looking guy, came in to comb his golden
3637 locks. We sort of struck up a conversation while he was combing it, except that he wasn't
3638 too goddam friendly.
3639 "Hey. You gonna see that Valencia babe when you go back in the bar?" I asked
3640 him.
3641 "It's highly probable," he said. Witty bastard. All I ever meet is witty bastards.
3642 "Listen. Give her my compliments. Ask her if that goddam waiter gave her my
3643 message, willya?"
3644 "Why don't you go home, Mac? How old are you, anyway?"
3645 "Eighty-six. Listen. Give her my compliments. Okay?"
3646 "Why don't you go home, Mac?"
3647 "Not me. Boy, you can play that goddam piano." I told him. I was just flattering
3648 him. He played the piano stinking, if you want to know the truth. "You oughta go on the
3649 radio," I said. "Handsome chap like you. All those goddam golden locks. Ya need a
3650 manager?"
3651 "Go home, Mac, like a good guy. Go home and hit the sack."
3652 "No home to go to. No kidding--you need a manager?"
3653 He didn't answer me. He just went out. He was all through combing his hair and
3654 patting it and all, so he left. Like Stradlater. All these handsome guys are the same. When
3655 they're done combing their goddam hair, they beat it on you.
3656 When I finally got down off the radiator and went out to the hat-check room, I
3657 was crying and all. I don't know why, but I was. I guess it was because I was feeling so
3658 damn depressed and lonesome. Then, when I went out to the checkroom, I couldn't find
3659 my goddam check. The hat-check girl was very nice about it, though. She gave me my
3660 coat anyway. And my "Little Shirley Beans" record--I still had it with me and all. I gave
3661 her a buck for being so nice, but she wouldn't take it. She kept telling me to go home and
3662 go to bed. I sort of tried to make a date with her for when she got through working, but
3663 she wouldn't do it. She said she was old enough to be my mother and all. I showed her
- title
- Chunk 2