{"id":"01KG6FHSHPFT47G974XP791FZK","cid":"bafkreic2ahqunpuo2uk76d2njjfwbbx4pq6cijza5qxdh7uxsrlkm42eei","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreib6wzruqtlavjw4plo34g5awgn6q35cezfebm4syt7k2v5wbzu6n4","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"Rye_page_0046.jpg","height":2400,"key":"pdf-page-1769744163153-xvc3st9o0aq","label":"Rye_page_0046.jpg","page_number":46,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":845750,"text":"me a pain in the ass. You should've heard the crowd, though, when he was finished. You\nwould've puked. They went mad. They were exactly the same morons that laugh like\nhyenas in the movies at stuff that isn't funny. I swear to God, if I were a piano player or\nan actor or something and all those dopes thought I was terrific, I'd hate it. I wouldn't\neven want them to clap for me. People always clap for the wrong things. If I were a piano\nplayer, I'd play it in the goddam closet. Anyway, when he was finished, and everybody\nwas clapping their heads off, old Ernie turned around on his stool and gave this very\nphony, humble bow. Like as if he was a helluva humble guy, besides being a terrific\npiano player. It was very phony--I mean him being such a big snob and all. In a funny\nway, though, I felt sort of sorry for him when he was finished. I don't even think he\nknows any more when he's playing right or not. It isn't all his fault. I partly blame all\nthose dopes that clap their heads off--they'd foul up anybody, if you gave them a chance.\nAnyway, it made me feel depressed and lousy again, and I damn near got my coat back\nand went back to the hotel, but it was too early and I didn't feel much like being all alone.\nThey finally got me this stinking table, right up against a wall and behind a\ngoddam post, where you couldn't see anything. It was one of those tiny little tables that if\nthe people at the next table don't get up to let you by--and they never do, the bastards--\nyou practically have to climb into your chair. I ordered a Scotch and soda, which is my\nfavorite drink, next to frozen Daiquiris. If you were only around six years old, you could\nget liquor at Ernie's, the place was so dark and all, and besides, nobody cared how old\nyou were. You could even be a dope fiend and nobody'd care.\nI was surrounded by jerks. I'm not kidding. At this other tiny table, right to my\nleft, practically on top of me, there was this funny-looking guy and this funny-looking\ngirl. They were around my age, or maybe just a little older. It was funny. You could see\nthey were being careful as hell not to drink up the minimum too fast. I listened to their\nconversation for a while, because I didn't have anything else to do. He was telling her\nabout some pro football game he'd seen that afternoon. He gave her every single goddam\nplay in the whole game--I'm not kidding. He was the most boring guy I ever listened to.\nAnd you could tell his date wasn't even interested in the goddam game, but she was even\nfunnier-looking than he was, so I guess she had to listen. Real ugly girls have it tough. I\nfeel so sorry for them sometimes. Sometimes I can't even look at them, especially if\nthey're with some dopey guy that's telling them all about a goddam football game. On my\nright, the conversation was even worse, though. On my right there was this very Joe\nYale-looking guy, in a gray flannel suit and one of those flitty-looking Tattersall vests.\nAll those Ivy League bastards look alike. My father wants me to go to Yale, or maybe\nPrinceton, but I swear, I wouldn't go to one of those Ivy League colleges, if I was dying,\nfor God's sake. Anyway, this Joe Yale-looking guy had a terrific-looking girl with him.\nBoy, she was good-looking. But you should've heard the conversation they were having.\nIn the first place, they were both slightly crocked. What he was doing, he was giving her\na feel under the table, and at the same time telling her all about some guy in his dorm that\nhad eaten a whole bottle of aspirin and nearly committed suicide. His date kept saying to\nhim, \"How horrible . . . Don't, darling. Please, don't. Not here.\" Imagine giving somebody\na feel and telling them about a guy committing suicide at the same time! They killed me.\nI certainly began to feel like a prize horse's ass, though, sitting there all by myself.\nThere wasn't anything to do except smoke and drink. What I did do, though, I told the\nwaiter to ask old Ernie if he'd care to join me for a drink. I told him to tell him I was","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:36:03.153Z","text_extracted_by":"pdf-processor","text_has_content":true,"text_source":"born_digital","uploaded":true,"width":1855},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFHMJM2J9JHQAQM1Q9SKBJWF","predicate":"derived_from"},{"peer":"01KFF1K6A8V452X8SQKY55DD16","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6FHSHJ710ARJ6AF1YZQT3B","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6FHT8XBPRC5AR3KFGK98R4","predicate":"next"},{"peer":"01KG6FKNAP8MPK31RT96ZTM8RF","peer_label":"Rye_page_0046_medium.jpg","peer_type":"file","predicate":"has_derivative"},{"peer":"01KG6FKRTHX60KQ08T18M5JJER","peer_label":"Rye_page_0046_thumb.jpg","peer_type":"file","predicate":"has_derivative"},{"peer":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","predicate":"has_assembly"}],"ver":6,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:36:04.406Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:40:41.725Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFFC4A8W8939TXGEXCK439ZK"}}