It's no fun to be Yellow

Just yesterday the American writer J.D.Salinger died (read full story, watch video). 'The Catcher in the Rye', his first novel about a teenager growing up in an adult 'phony' world, became a classic in American literature. This is an excerpt containing... guess what? Lots of conditional 3 structures.

I wished I knew who’d swiped my gloves at Pencey, because my hands were freezing. Not that I’d have done much about it even if I had known. I’m one of these very yellow guys. I try not to show it, but I am. For instance, if I’d found out at Pencey who’d stolen my gloves, I probably would’ve gone down to the crook’s room and said, “Okay. How ‘bout handing over those gloves?” Then the crook that had stolen them probably would’ve said, his voice very innocent and all, “What gloves?” Then what I probably would’ve done, I’d have gone in his closet and found the gloves somewhere…I’d have taken them out and showed them to the guy and said, “I suppose these are your…gloves?” Then the crook probably would’ve given me this very phony, innocent look, and said, “I never saw those gloves before in my life. If they’re yours, take ‘em”… Then I probably would’ve just stood there for about five minutes… I’d just stand there, trying to look tough. What I might do, I might say something very cutting and snotty, to rile him up—instead of socking him in the jaw. Anyway, if I did say something very cutting and snotty, he’d probably get up and come over to me and say, “Listen, Caulfield. Are you calling me a crook?...All I probably would’ve said would be…”Nobody’s calling anybody a thief. All I know is my gloves were in your…galoshes.” It could go on like that for hours. Finally, though, I’d leave his room without even taking a sock at him. I’d probably go down to the can and … watch myself getting tough in the mirror…It’s no fun to be yellow.”