- end_line
- 2190
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T03:41:20.744Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2172
- text
- even the Navy guy didn't like her much, even though he was dating her. And I didn't like
her much. Nobody did. You had to feel sort of sorry for her, in a way. "Don't you have a
date, baby?" she asked me. I was standing up now, and she didn't even tell me to sit
down. She was the type that keeps you standing up for hours. "Isn't he handsome?" she
said to the Navy guy. "Holden, you're getting handsomer by the minute." The Navy guy
told her to come on. He told her they were blocking up the whole aisle. "Holden, come
join us," old Lillian said. "Bring your drink."
"I was just leaving," I told her. "I have to meet somebody." You could tell she was
just trying to get in good with me. So that I'd tell old D.B. about it.
"Well, you little so-and-so. All right for you. Tell your big brother I hate him,
when you see him."
Then she left. The Navy guy and I told each other we were glad to've met each
other. Which always kills me. I'm always saying "Glad to've met you" to somebody I'm
not at all glad I met. If you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though.
After I'd told her I had to meet somebody, I didn't have any goddam choice except
to leave. I couldn't even stick around to hear old Ernie play something halfway decent.
But I certainly wasn't going to sit down at a table with old Lillian Simmons and that Navy
guy and be bored to death. So I left. It made me mad, though, when I was getting my
coat. People are always ruining things for you.
- title
- Chunk 12