Robert Ackley

I'd only read about two pages, when I heard somebody coming through the shower curtains. Evev without looking up I knew right away who it was. It was Robert Ackley this gut who roomed next to me. There was a shower right between every two rooms in our wing, and about eighty-five times a day old Ackley barged in on me. He was a very peculiar guy. He was a senior. He was one of these very, very tall round-shouldered guys - he was about six four - with lousy teeth. He had a lot a pimples. Not just on his forehead or on his chin, like most other guys, but all over his face, and not only that he had a terrible personality. He was a sort of a nasty guy. I wasn't to crazy about him, to tell you the truth. He always made you say the everything twice. He didn't like it when you called him 'Ackley kid'. He was always telling me I was a goddam kid, because I was sixteen and he was eighteen. It drove him mad when I called him 'Ackley kid'. That guy Ackley would pick up anything. He did'nt care if you'd packed something or not and had it way in the top of the closet. 'you have a damn good sence of humour Ackley kid,' I told him. He had lousy manners. The only way he did anything was if you yelled at him. He could be really aggravating sometimes. He never missed a chance to let you know you were sixteen and he was eighteen.