{"id":"01KG6FVGFAYD9EWKR182RZ2C16","cid":"bafkreicauos4ajmaxmlxvrdfw4f2l3hw3jsm4nmzxwi2b5awyn3jxtmotm","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":1376,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:41:20.744Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","start_line":1318,"text":"8\nIt was too late to call up for a cab or anything, so I walked the whole way to the\nstation. It wasn't too far, but it was cold as hell, and the snow made it hard for walking,\nand my Gladstones kept banging hell out of my legs. I sort of enjoyed the air and all,\nthough. The only trouble was, the cold made my nose hurt, and right under my upper lip,\nwhere old Stradlater'd laid one on me. He'd smacked my lip right on my teeth, and it was\npretty sore. My ears were nice and warm, though. That hat I bought had earlaps in it, and\nI put them on--I didn't give a damn how I looked. Nobody was around anyway.\nEverybody was in the sack.\nI was quite lucky when I got to the station, because I only had to wait about ten\nminutes for a train. While I waited, I got some snow in my hand and washed my face\nwith it. I still had quite a bit of blood on.\nUsually I like riding on trains, especially at night, with the lights on and the\nwindows so black, and one of those guys coming up the aisle selling coffee and\nsandwiches and magazines. I usually buy a ham sandwich and about four magazines. If\nI'm on a train at night, I can usually even read one of those dumb stories in a magazine\nwithout puking. You know. One of those stories with a lot of phony, lean-jawed guys\nnamed David in it, and a lot of phony girls named Linda or Marcia that are always\nlighting all the goddam Davids' pipes for them. I can even read one of those lousy stories\non a train at night, usually. But this time, it was different. I just didn't feel like it. I just\nsort of sat and not did anything. All I did was take off my hunting hat and put it in my\npocket.\nAll of a sudden, this lady got on at Trenton and sat down next to me. Practically\nthe whole car was empty, because it was pretty late and all, but she sat down next to me,\ninstead of an empty seat, because she had this big bag with her and I was sitting in the\nfront seat. She stuck the bag right out in the middle of the aisle, where the conductor and\neverybody could trip over it. She had these orchids on, like she'd just been to a big party\nor something. She was around forty or forty-five, I guess, but she was very good looking.\nWomen kill me. They really do. I don't mean I'm oversexed or anything like that--\nalthough I am quite sexy. I just like them, I mean. They're always leaving their goddam\nbags out in the middle of the aisle.\n\n\nAnyway, we were sitting there, and all of a sudden she said to me, \"Excuse me,\nbut isn't that a Pencey Prep sticker?\" She was looking up at my suitcases, up on the rack.\n\"Yes, it is,\" I said. She was right. I did have a goddam Pencey sticker on one of\nmy Gladstones. Very corny, I'll admit.\n\"Oh, do you go to Pencey?\" she said. She had a nice voice. A nice telephone\nvoice, mostly. She should've carried a goddam telephone around with her.\n\"Yes, I do,\" I said.\n\"Oh, how lovely! Perhaps you know my son, then, Ernest Morrow? He goes to\nPencey.\"\n\"Yes, I do. He's in my class.\"\nHer son was doubtless the biggest bastard that ever went to Pencey, in the whole\ncrumby history of the school. He was always going down the corridor, after he'd had a\nshower, snapping his soggy old wet towel at people's asses. That's exactly the kind of a\nguy he was.\n\"Oh, how nice!\" the lady said. But not corny. She was just nice and all. \"I must\ntell Ernest we met,\" she said. \"May I ask your name, dear?\"\n\"Rudolf Schmidt,\" I told her. I didn't feel like giving her my whole life history.\nRudolf Schmidt was the name of the janitor of our dorm.\n\"Do you like Pencey?\" she asked me.\n\"Pencey? It's not too bad. It's not paradise or anything, but it's as good as most\nschools. Some of the faculty are pretty conscientious.\"\n\"Ernest just adores it.\"\n\"I know he does,\" I said. Then I started shooting the old crap around a little bit.\n\"He adapts himself very well to things. He really does. I mean he really knows how to\nadapt himself.\"\n\"Do you think so?\" she asked me. She sounded interested as hell.","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6FV13CKKKA4H6MPFSSH2H5","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KFF1K6A8V452X8SQKY55DD16","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6FVGFC67YHTW03PN0CW89W","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:41:22.794Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:41:28.927Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}