Because of his situation and his view of the world, Holden is lonely. When he arrives at Penn Station, he enters a phone booth to call someone but can’t think of anyone he can reach out to at that time of night. (It must be well after l:00 a.m.) He takes a cab to the Edmont Hotel but initially and, it seems, inadvertently, gives the driver his parents’ address. Psychoanalytical critics jump on this as a Freudian slip (a mistake made in speaking, by which, it is thought, a person inadvertently reveals unconscious motives or desires) that reveals Holden’s subconscious yearning for home. That may be. Or it could be just what he says it is: habit.
At the Edmont, Holden is assigned to a “very crumby” room with a view of nothing but the other side of the hotel. The view, however, proves somewhat interesting. In one room is a transvestite, a distinguished-looking older gentleman enjoying himself as he dons silk stockings, high heels, a bra, a corset, and a black evening dress. In another, a couple laughingly spits some kind of liquid — perhaps water or alcohol — all over each other. Although Holden decides that the hotel is filled with “perverts,” he likes to watch. He is concerned about his own sexuality and confesses that he has certain yearnings but doesn’t understand sex very well. Like many young people, he has made rules (apparently of limitation or abstinence) for himself but usually breaks them, sometimes soon after they are made.
Having been reminded of sex, Holden recalls that a Princeton student gave him the number of a girl in New York who reportedly is very friendly and, though not a prostitute, is casual sexually. Holden calls Miss Faith Cavendish, probably waking her up, and fails to convince her that she should see him that night. She does offer to meet him the next day, but Holden declines and ends the conversation; he immediately regrets the lost opportunity — a terribly lame attempt at intimacy.
