I was stood there, in Penn Station, wanting to call someone but I couldn’t think of anyone to call—my brother D. B. is in Hollywood; Phoebe, my sister probably asleep; I didn’t feel like calling Jane Gallagher; or Sally Hayes, whose mother hates me. So, i took a cab to the Edmont Hotel, but I didn’t ask to go to the hotel first I told the driver my home address- that’s one place I didn’t want to go, well not yet anyway. I tried to make s a conversation with the driver, asking him where the ducks in the Central Park lagoon go in the winter, but the driver wasn’t interested.

At the Edmont, I looked out of my window into this lighted window on the other side and discovers loads of weird things. One man was dressing in women’s clothing, and in the other room a man and a woman took turns spitting mouthfuls of their drinks into each other’s face. Perverts, I was the only normal one there, I think Stradlater would of loved it there.

I remember wanting to ring some one again, I wanted to ring Jane but I wasn’t in the mood. I wanted to meet someone a women and I remember this phone number of this women but I don’t know if she was a stripper or not. I rang this women, and this women you could tell she was angry to be woken but she found who I got the number from she became more friendly but still she wouldn’t come out. She did ask me if I wanted to meet up with her the next night but I refused. I hung up and immediately after I regretted it.