Entry 3

The first football game of the year, he drove up to school in this goddam Cadillac and we had to give him a goddam cheer. Then in the chapel the next morning he tried to show us he was a regular guy and all, by doing this goddam speech that lasted about fifteen hours. It really did. He made like fifty of the most stupidest and most corniest jokes you ever heard in your entire life. He just started waffling on about Jesus like there was no tomorrow. Ha! It killed me when he said he talked to Jesus all the time, even in his stupid car.The only good part of his pointless speech was when this guy in the front row, Edgar Marsalla laid one hell of a fart. Hardly anybody laughed. Though it was quite amusing. But I spose it was a bit crude aswell, with it being in a chapel and all. Anyway, that’s where I stayed. The Ossenburger memorial wing, in the new dorms.

Everyone was down at ‘The big game’. I put this hat on that I’d bought in New York that morning after I realized I left my goddam stuff on the subway. I sat down and started to read my book. "Out of Africa" by Isak Dinesen. It was quite a good book. But to tell you the truth I thought it would be boring as hell. I like to read. My favourite authors are my brother, D.B and Ring Lardner.

Robert Ackley. He always barged in on me just when I started to do something. Boy he gets on my nerves. The worst bit is, the only thing separating out rooms is a shower curtain.

Anyway, Ackley. He’s one of the really tall guys. With round shoulders, and has the most horrifying teeth ever. He really has. Nobody ever saw him brushing his teeth and if you ever saw him with a face full of food you were nearly sick. Oh yeah, he’s got the worst skin you’ve ever seen aswell. I mean hes not just got pimples on his chin or on his nose. He’s got em all over his face. Its pretty disgusting.

He started talking to me, but I wasn’t too interested. When he realized I was ignoring him, he started walking round my room and picking up my personal stuff. He always did that.
“How was the fencing? We win?” I knew he wasn’t interested he just wanted me to stop reading my book.
“ Nobody won." I still didn’t look up from my book. I’m not giving him what he wants. He kept asking me questions that had nothing to do with him and stuff that probably bored him to death. Goddam phoney.

Afterwards, he started to clean his goddam fingernails with the end of a match. If you ever saw Ackley’s teeth and ears, you would think he didn’t clean at all. I guess he thought it made him a neat guy and all. Cleaning his nails. But it really didn’t.

He made me give him my scissors so he could cut his goddam disgusting fingernails.
“Cut em over the table willya?” He ignored me and carried on cutting them all over the goddam place. I asked him over and over again but he still didn’t listen. He just kept changing the subject to Stradkater and how much he hate him.
“Ackley! For chrissake! Cut em over the goddam table. Please.” And for once he did it. I only think he listens if you shout at him.

I sat there. Just watching him for a while. “The only reason you hate Ackley so much is because he said that stuff to you about not brushing your teeth.”
“Don’t gimme that. I brush my teeth.”
“Don’t give me that. I’ve seen you loads of times and I’ve never seen you brush em.”

Stradlater barged in. In a hurry, as usual. He only came back to borrow my jacket. I didn’t want stretching the goddam printer or anything, but I let him wear it anyway.
“Where’s your date?”
“Waiting at the Annex.”
He walked out the room with a toilet kit and a towel under his arm. No shirt or anything. He never wore a shirt cause he thought he had a damn good build. And I’ll admit. He did.