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Lunch in Brooklyn
Rebecca Moore

...A man who dances like a jumping-jack, stamping on her toes, is not only a torture to her but makes her seem almost as awkward as he, and no one comes to her rescue. A wise girl therefore stops dancing at once, saying, “Let’s sit out the rest of this dance.”

—Emily Post

We started to dance and he was very shy. In fact there was something about him that was left over from being eleven. I asked him where he lived and he told me he lived in Coney Island with his father who was eighty and I asked him if he worked and he said in the summer he sold Good Humors. And then he said this incredible sentence. It was something like, “I used to worry about”—it was very slow—”I used to worry about being like this. Not knowing more. But now”—and his eyes sort of lit up—”now I don’t worry anymore.”—Diane Arbus

Lunch in Brooklyn

By Rebecca Moore

Copyright 2011 Rebecca Moore

Smashwords Edition

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