4. JEAN? NO JANE GALLAGHER (Moron)

In walked Stradlater, the god damn sonnuvabitch had a date tonight, so he had to make himself look hot and all that crap. Stradlater's the kind of guy that you see in the school year book and think “who is he?” He spends all his time trying to make himself look gorgeous and all infront of the mirror. He always did that. Stand infront of the mirror that is. He is as bad as a girl. Makes me sick as hell. Crumby little sonnuvabitch.

But anyway, I had nothing else to do, so I went with Stradlater to the can while he had a shave. He had used the same shaver for about a billion years. He maybe good looking and all, but if you saw his shaver, boy you would have a shock! He told me about him going out with this chick. Then told me he had a goddam composition to write for tomorrow and he wouldn’t have time to do it, so he asked if I would do it. He told me to make it descriptive as hell, but not to descriptive though. He knew I was good at English. I said I might as well, if I had time that is. I began to get a bit bored though, so I decided I would start messing around and all, you know, a bit of dancing you would probably see at the opening night of Ziegfield Follies or some other crap. Stradlater was still pruning himself but he laughed and complimented me, only because he wanted me to write that god damn composition for him. God damn phoney! I asked who his date was for this evening but the crumby moron couldn't even remember her name. Whoever it was, he must not have liked her that much. Finally he remembered her name, Jean Gallagher.

I knew her, but the funny thing was that she was called JANE Gallagher! She used to live next door to me you see; she had this massive Doberman dog and all. Scary as hell. Damn I would have loved to catch up with her. We used to play checkers and all, she would never move her kings. She used to leave them all lined up across the back, all because she liked the way they looked. Daft I know. She used to dance as well, rain or shine she was out doing her dancing, although she was pretty worried that it would make her legs all thick and all. Stradlater didn't seem too interested though about Jane, he cared more about his god damn self. He started parting his hair and looking at himself even more. On his way out, he reminded me about his god damn composition and I told him to give Jane my regards, then he went. I knew he wouldn’t give Jane my compliments anyway, he didn’t care about that crap.