Everybody was asleep or out or home for the week end, and it was very depressing in the corridor. What I thought I do, I thought I might go down and see what old Mal Brossard was doing. But I changed my mind. I’d get the hell out of Pencey- right that same night and all. I mean not wait to Wednesday or anything. I just didn’t want to hang around anymore. It made me to sad and lonesome. I decided I’d take a room in New York - some very inexpensive hotel and all- and just take it easy till Wednesday. My mother gets very hysterical. She’s not to bad after she gets something thoroughly digested, though. Besides I sort or need a little vacation. My nerves where shot they really were. So that’s what I decided to do. So I went back to the room and started to pack. Old Stradlater didn’t even wake up. I lit a cigarette and got all dressed and then I packed these two Gladstone’s I have. It took me about two minutes. I’m a very rapid packer. One thing about packing depressed me a little. I had to pack these brand new ice skates my mother practically just sent me a couple of days before. That depressed me. It made me pretty sad. I counted my dough. I don’t know exactly how much but I was pretty loaded. My grandmother is pretty loaded and she sends me money for my birthday four times a year. She didn’t have all her marbles anymore. When I was all set to go, I stood for a while next to the stairs and took a last look down the goddam corridor. I put my red hunting hat on, and turned the peak around to the front and yelled at the top of my voice ‘sleep type, ya morons. Then I got the hell out.
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