Chapter 3
As I move towards the nearest empty table, there’s a clump moving into the center of the wooden dance floor, the crowd cheering as women fly into the air in the middle, held up by sturdy arms. I pull out a chair, small screeches as I move it. Once I sit down, the bar becomes crowded and the dancers move off of their impromptu stage and towards the drinks. They must be parched after their party, I thought. Although the jazz was booming and people were laughing, I couldn’t seem to move out of my still seat, my raging thoughts. Then, a sudden clank and bang on my table. I look up to find a young woman of darker skin talking freely to the air, or possibly to me.
“Di mi, some charleston they all was dancin’!”
“I guess so, I just arrived.”
“Well you mus be thirsty nonetheless. Waiter, bring us some fine drinks!”
“So what’s your name, darlin’?”
“Dorothy, and you?”
“Honey, my name be Ms. Rosie, and I am so sweet you might’s well call me honey too.”
Although she seemed like the booze had gotten the best of her, the liveliness she brought to my dull table was reason enough for a good conversation and a few drinks. The waitress brought mine with steady pace, making sure none of it tipped over the side. She then announced what was being served, a sense of pride shimmering through her raspy voice.
“The sidecar, a lovely cocktail made with cognac, orange liqueur, and lemon juice, served straight up for your pleasure.”
“Thank you, this looks beautiful.” I say as I ogle the charismatic beverage. I take a sip and the alcohol bites my tongue, as if promising for the pain it gave to disappear soon if only I take another sip.
“Good? You seemed like you needed a good calmin’ to get your feet movin’.”
“Yes, it’s -- it’s the bee’s knees.” I smile as the stranger turned to friend. As our conversation continued, the crowd turned to a blur and the music a dimmed white noise.
Curious of her accent, I ask, “Where are you from? You don’t sound like a classic city goer.”
Eager to answer as though I had just asked the question that was her ticket to win the lottery, she answered with no hesitation. “Why, I grew up in the great state of Alabama! My pop and ma are still down there holding up our family store. I had to get away, start livin’ on my own. Free mah’self from prejudice and such down in the South. New York is so versat’le, the bright lights n’ city streets beggin’ ya to be different.”
“Well, I’m happy I met you.” Our drinks clinked as my small toast was momentarily cherished by the kind company.
“Ya wanna get to dancin’ again?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, but couldn’t bare to say no when she had shown me nothing but generosity and interest. We moved onto the dance floor, she moved as though no one was watching, while all my body would allow was a simple sway. I ignored the man I had noticed before, and began to jive to the beat, listening to the blaring trumpet and bumping drums. Sweat dripped down my forehead and curls popped out of my do, ruining my smooth pony, but all I could focus on was the sudden adrenaline I felt rushing through my body. As we drank and danced the night away, the too-young-to-get-drunk boys flirted with us, calling us “good time girls” and “the cat’s pajamas”. As flattering as their fishing was, I couldn’t take the bait and instead kept moving to the music. One of the boys had more audacity than the others, and while snickering quietly, began to sweet talk Rosie.
“Di mi, some charleston they all was dancin’!”
“I guess so, I just arrived.”
“Well you mus be thirsty nonetheless. Waiter, bring us some fine drinks!”
“So what’s your name, darlin’?”
“Dorothy, and you?”
“Honey, my name be Ms. Rosie, and I am so sweet you might’s well call me honey too.”
Although she seemed like the booze had gotten the best of her, the liveliness she brought to my dull table was reason enough for a good conversation and a few drinks. The waitress brought mine with steady pace, making sure none of it tipped over the side. She then announced what was being served, a sense of pride shimmering through her raspy voice.
“The sidecar, a lovely cocktail made with cognac, orange liqueur, and lemon juice, served straight up for your pleasure.”
“Thank you, this looks beautiful.” I say as I ogle the charismatic beverage. I take a sip and the alcohol bites my tongue, as if promising for the pain it gave to disappear soon if only I take another sip.
“Good? You seemed like you needed a good calmin’ to get your feet movin’.”
“Yes, it’s -- it’s the bee’s knees.” I smile as the stranger turned to friend. As our conversation continued, the crowd turned to a blur and the music a dimmed white noise.
Curious of her accent, I ask, “Where are you from? You don’t sound like a classic city goer.”
Eager to answer as though I had just asked the question that was her ticket to win the lottery, she answered with no hesitation. “Why, I grew up in the great state of Alabama! My pop and ma are still down there holding up our family store. I had to get away, start livin’ on my own. Free mah’self from prejudice and such down in the South. New York is so versat’le, the bright lights n’ city streets beggin’ ya to be different.”
“Well, I’m happy I met you.” Our drinks clinked as my small toast was momentarily cherished by the kind company.
“Ya wanna get to dancin’ again?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, but couldn’t bare to say no when she had shown me nothing but generosity and interest. We moved onto the dance floor, she moved as though no one was watching, while all my body would allow was a simple sway. I ignored the man I had noticed before, and began to jive to the beat, listening to the blaring trumpet and bumping drums. Sweat dripped down my forehead and curls popped out of my do, ruining my smooth pony, but all I could focus on was the sudden adrenaline I felt rushing through my body. As we drank and danced the night away, the too-young-to-get-drunk boys flirted with us, calling us “good time girls” and “the cat’s pajamas”. As flattering as their fishing was, I couldn’t take the bait and instead kept moving to the music. One of the boys had more audacity than the others, and while snickering quietly, began to sweet talk Rosie.