They always gave you a big meal on a Saturday. Steak. I think it was because a lot of the guy’s parent came up to the school on a Sunday and there mothers would always ask them, ‘Sweetheart, what did you have for your dinner last night?’ and they would always reply ‘ Steak.’ Just to make Pencey sound a little bit better than it really was.

It was good when we finally got out of the dining hall. It was coming down like a madman and there were already about three inches of it. The snow I mean.

Me and this guy decided to go see a lousy film cause neither of us had dates and we didn’t want to sit around all night. I asked Ackley if he wanted to come, but all he was interested in was who else was goin. Besides me. That’s all he ever wanted to know, who else was going.

Anyway, we were waiting for about five hours for Ackley to get ready. That gives me a royal pain in the ass too. Guys that take about five hundred hours to get ready. I mean, it’s not like he has to brush his teeth or anything.

While i was waiting, I decided to pack a snowball. I was gonna throw it a car parked accross the street but it looked so nice and white so I changed my mind.

Goddam movies. I hate movies. Especially when you have to sit next to Brossard and Ackley, laughing there socks off at stuff that’s not even remotely funny.

After he left, I put on my bathrobe and started to write Stradlater his stupid composition. I couldn’t think of anything to write about. Not even a beach or a house or a room. Nothing. So I decided to write about Allie’s baseball mitt. The thing that was descriptive about it was that it had poems written all over the fingers. He wrote them so he had something to read while he was waiting to bat.

Allies one of the most nicest people you would have ever met in your life. He never got mad a t anybody and he was really intelligent. The night he died, I slept in the garage and ended up braking all the goddam windows.

Yeah, so that’s what I wrote about. Allie’s baseball mitt. I miss him sometimes. I really do.