The Heart of a Broken Story- J.D. Salinger

EVERY day Justin Horgenschlag, thirty-dollar-a-week printer’s assistant, saw at close quarters
approximately sixty women whom he had never seen before. Thus in the few years he had
lived in New York, Horgenschlag had seen at close quarters about 75,120 different women. Of
these 75,120 women, roughly 25,000 were under thirty years of age and over fifteen years of
age. Of the 25,000 only 5,000 weighed between one hundred five and one hundred twenty-five
pounds. Of these 5,000 only 1,000 were not ugly. Only 500 were reasonably attractive; only
100 of these were quite attractive; only 25 could have inspired a long, slow whistle. And with
only 1 did Horgenschlag fall in love at first sight.

Shirley was reading a cosmetic advertisement in the wall panel of the bus; and when Shirley read, Shirley relaxed
slightly at the jaw. And in that short moment while Shirley’s mouth was open, lips were
parted, Shirley was probably the most fatal one in all Manhattan. Horgenschlag saw in her a
positive cure-all for a gigantic monster of loneliness which had been stalking around his heart
since he had come to New York. Oh, the agony of it! The agony of standing over Shirley Lester
and not being able to bend down and kiss Shirley’s parted lips. The inexpressible agony of it!

That was the beginning of the story I started to write for Collier’s. I was going to write a lovely
tender boy-meets-girl story. What could be finer, I thought. The world needs boy-meets-girl
stories. But to write one, unfortunately, the writer must go about the business of having the
boy meet the girl. I couldn’t do it with this one. Not and have it make sense. I couldn’t get
Horgenschlag and Shirley together properly. And here are the reasons:
Certainly it was impossible for Horgenschlag to bend over and say in all sincerity:

“Loving you is the important thing, Miss Lester. There are some people who think love is sex
and marriage and six o’clock-kisses and children, and perhaps it is, Miss Lester. But do you
know what I think? I think love is a touch and yet not a touch.
“I suppose it’s important to a woman that other people think of her as the wife of a man who is
either rich, handsome, witty or popular. I’m not even popular. I’m not even hated. I’m just—
I’m just—Justin Horgenschlag. I never make people gay, sad, angry, or even disgusted. I think
people regard me as a nice guy, but that’s all.
“When I was a child no one pointed me out as being cute or bright or good-looking. If they
had to say something they said I had sturdy little legs.
“I don’t expect an answer to this letter, Miss Lester. I would like an answer more than
anything else in the world, but truthfully I don’t expect one. I merely wanted you to know the
truth. If my love for you has only led me to a new and great sorrow, only I am to blame.
“Perhaps one day you will understand and forgive your blundering admirer,
Justin Sorgenschlag”

But Justin Horgenschlag never got to know Shirley Lester. She got off at Fifty-Sixth Street, and
he got off at Thirty-Second Street. That night Shirley Lester went to the movies with Howard
Lawrence with whom she was in love. Howard thought Shirley was a darn good sport, but that
was as far as it went. And Justin Horgenschlag that night stayed home and listened to the Lux
Toilet Soap radio play. He thought about Shirley all night, all the next day, and very often
during that month. Then all of a sudden he was introduced to Doris Hillman who was beginning
to be afraid she wasn’t going to get a husband. And then before Justin Horgenschlag knew it,
Doris Hillman and things were filing away Shirley Lester in the back of his mind. And Shirley
Lester, the thought of her, no longer was available.

And that’s why I never wrote a boy-meets-girl story for Collier’s. In a boy-meets-girl story the
boy should always meet the girl. |||