{"id":"01KG6FHSKKJGHCEDQ9B508P2X0","cid":"bafkreia7224juu2grqzab6ei3feuiou72e25upvkxiz4pjyruuspw5saau","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreienmersgwo6st3vientzaanmmw77ilz5eor3d2sadkafprhg6c7lm","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"Rye_page_0076.jpg","height":2400,"key":"pdf-page-1769744163168-4n46xg84l46","label":"Rye_page_0076.jpg","page_number":76,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":756703,"text":"see how he could like a phony book like that and still like that one by Ring Lardner, or\nthat other one he's so crazy about, The Great Gatsby. D.B. got sore when I said that, and\nsaid I was too young and all to appreciate it, but I don't think so. I told him I liked Ring\nLardner and The Great Gatsby and all. I did, too. I was crazy about The Great Gatsby.\nOld Gatsby. Old sport. That killed me. Anyway, I'm sort of glad they've got the atomic\nbomb invented. If there's ever another war, I'm going to sit right the hell on top of it. I'll\nvolunteer for it, I swear to God I will.\n19\nIn case you don't live in New York, the Wicker Bar is in this sort of swanky hotel,\nthe Seton Hotel. I used to go there quite a lot, but I don't any more. I gradually cut it out.\nIt's one of those places that are supposed to be very sophisticated and all, and the phonies\nare coming in the window. They used to have these two French babes, Tina and Janine,\ncome out and play the piano and sing about three times every night. One of them played\nthe piano--strictly lousy--and the other one sang, and most of the songs were either pretty\ndirty or in French. The one that sang, old Janine, was always whispering into the goddam\nmicrophone before she sang. She'd say, \"And now we like to geeve you our impression of\nVooly Voo Fransay. Eet ees the story of a leetle Fransh girl who comes to a beeg ceety,\njust like New York, and falls een love wees a leetle boy from Brookleen. We hope you\nlike eet.\" Then, when she was all done whispering and being cute as hell, she'd sing some\ndopey song, half in English and half in French, and drive all the phonies in the place mad\nwith joy. If you sat around there long enough and heard all the phonies applauding and\nall, you got to hate everybody in the world, I swear you did. The bartender was a louse,\ntoo. He was a big snob. He didn't talk to you at all hardly unless you were a big shot or a\ncelebrity or something. If you were a big shot or a celebrity or something, then he was\neven more nauseating. He'd go up to you and say, with this big charming smile, like he\nwas a helluva swell guy if you knew him, \"Well! How's Connecticut?\" or \"How's\nFlorida?\" It was a terrible place, I'm not kidding. I cut out going there entirely, gradually.\nIt was pretty early when I got there. I sat down at the bar--it was pretty crowded--\nand had a couple of Scotch and sodas before old Luce even showed up. I stood up when I\nordered them so they could see how tall I was and all and not think I was a goddam\nminor. Then I watched the phonies for a while. Some guy next to me was snowing hell\nout of the babe he was with. He kept telling her she had aristocratic hands. That killed\nme. The other end of the bar was full of flits. They weren't too flitty-looking--I mean they\ndidn't have their hair too long or anything--but you could tell they were flits anyway.\nFinally old Luce showed up.\nOld Luce. What a guy. He was supposed to be my Student Adviser when I was at\nWhooton. The only thing he ever did, though, was give these sex talks and all, late at\nnight when there was a bunch of guys in his room. He knew quite a bit about sex,\nespecially perverts and all. He was always telling us about a lot of creepy guys that go\naround having affairs with sheep, and guys that go around with girls' pants sewed in the\nlining of their hats and all. And flits and Lesbians. Old Luce knew who every flit and\nLesbian in the United States was. All you had to do was mention somebody--anybody--\nand old Luce'd tell you if he was a flit or not. Sometimes it was hard to believe, the","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:36:03.168Z","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":"01KG6FHT9V3J2W69W7GRW9V8PR","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6FHSK5DR7T4H2B7EA1K2XE","predicate":"next"},{"peer":"01KG6FMBN0CC46PQEXFAWW7KVX","peer_label":"Rye_page_0076_medium.jpg","peer_type":"file","predicate":"has_derivative"},{"peer":"01KG6FMEY8BQPXBZTJAAJBE8GX","peer_label":"Rye_page_0076_thumb.jpg","peer_type":"file","predicate":"has_derivative"},{"peer":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","predicate":"has_assembly"}],"ver":6,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:36:04.467Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:40:41.650Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFFC4A8W8939TXGEXCK439ZK"}}