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April 28, 2003

Where Did All the Ducks Go?

I had plenty of crap to do after getting out of my crumby econ class, but I didn't feel much like doing it. I mean it, sitting in that cold room for almost two hours really depresses me. It's like sitting in some sort of arctic icebox, for Chrissake. I'd figure that I'm the only moron in the whole goddam room who actually notices it. Most people are too busy pretending to pay attention to the professor, which is just a lousy waste of time, if you ask me. I can't pay attention when I'm worried about having my fingers fall off.

So after the econ class, I made my way across the Oval and down to the lake to watch the ducks. I don't do that too often--every other time I wanted to go down there, the lake was frozen, and there wasn't anything to look at except for a couple of madman squirrels. They kill me, those squirrels do. Out of almost all the animals I've ever seen, squirrels are probably the funniest. No kidding. Even when I'd used to go to the zoo with my kid sister, the only thing I'd really be interested in was all the squirrels hopping all over the elephants' cages and jumping into their water holes. You can't lock up a squirrel. They can get away with just about anything.

I couldn't get Phoebe to get excited about the squirrels, though. But she was just wild about the gorillas--you always had to see the gorillas first, right after you bought her a bag of popcorn at the gate. She was a maniac about it. There was this one gorilla that she liked to talk to through the bars, and old Phoebe called him Mike. Can you believe it? I mean, it was a real riot. Phoebe made a big deal out of visiting Mike every time we were in Central Park, and she tried feeding him some popcorn a couple of times before a lousy zookeeper told her not to. That still didn't stop her, because she made sure that we visited Mike every Friday after she got out of school. "Holden! Do you see him? Do you see him? Holden, look! See him?" She killed me with that. The whole time, I'd be holding her hand and watching those crazy squirrels run up and down the trees in the gorilla's cage. They can be pretty hilarious when you think about it. But most people don't, so I try to keep that to myself.

Anyway, the ducks were all over the goddam lake, just swimming as if they didn't have to worry about a single crumby thing in the world. I didn't get to see too many ducks or squirrels while I was out back in California, which is one of the reasons I'm glad to be back here. I remember telling that lousy Sally Hayes that I was going to pack up for Hollywood, and instead of being sad for me, she got all hysterical about it, asking me to send her a postcard "post-haste," and making sure that I got to see the Walk of Fame and all that crap. I spent a good three months in Hollywood, and I can tell you that I didn't see or do any off that stuff. There wasn't anything there but a bunch of lousy palmetto trees and some really homely girls that only wanted to "get a tan" at the beach. I ended up not liking California any better than New York, which is sad, because New York can be a pretty rotten place, too.

At the lake, they have a bunches of benches for people to sit and study whenever they get the chance. I mean, I never do--I always end up staring at the goddam ducks, anyway--but every now and again I see a couple of people that I know from other classes. Today I ran into this really funny girl that DB and I both know from New York named Betsy Harris. I know I shoot the breeze a lot and all, but I'm not lying when I tell you that Betsy is a very funny girl. Not funny "Ha ha" like the stupid jokes they pull on the Milton Berle show (only phonies watch that crap), but funny in the same sort of way that I am, if that makes any sense. I had an English teacher tell me I can be vauge about certain things, so I'm never really sure if people know what I mean. Anyway, me and Betsy used to go the same elementary school; it's Phoebe's school now, though, and DB used to have to walk us home from school every afternoon. Boy, Betsy was just about the only girl that didn't cry if you pulled her hair too hard or got mad if you ran off with one of her dolls. Phoebe's the same way. All girls ought to be like that.

So I walk up to old Betsy and sit next to her on the bench, real suave, you know? A regular gentleman. You should've seen me, I was a regular cassanova, just like in that last Cary Grant movie. Girls live for that kind of crap."Watcha readin'?" I asked her, still smooth as hell.

"Heart of Darkness," she said, closing the book to look at me. That's what I love about Betsy--you always get her full, undivided attention. She's crazy about me. "We already read it at Saint Mary's last year, but we're doing a report on it in my English class, so I've got to read it again."

"Yeah, we read that at the Whooton School," I lied. You couldn't even tell. "Either there, or at crumby old Pencey. I thought it was a pretty rotten book anyway, though, so it doesn't matter."

"I don't like it all that much either," she nodded. You couldn't help but love her when she nodded like that--I think all girls can be just drop-dead gorgeous when they take the time to know what's-what. "Did you eat lunch already?"

"Who me? Nah. I was planning on going to Hayslip's for a milkshake, anyway. You wanna come? My treat." Boy, was I killing her. Left and right. I was unstoppable.

"Sure," she told me in a seductive sort of way. I'm not too sure that she meant it that way, but at least that's what it sounded like. I can be a real madman when it comes to girls. My brother DB says I'm one of the most perverted bastards he knows, and that's saying a lot for a guy who spends all of his time in Hollywood, living with a crowd of goddam perverts. But to tell the truth, most girls almost always make me horny or bored as hell. And I'm not a sexaholic or a sexist or anything like that. They just have that kind of effect on me, that's all.

posted at 12:20 p.m.