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Still Dancing

September 20, 2011

She was a classically trained cellist, shopped at Bergdorf Goodman, and kept a studio apartment in lower Manhattan she’d dubbed Club Grey, because it was where she went to dance.

For a year she’d gone to the same club on Friday nights. dancing to the same DJ, but stopped when it became too embarrassing. The music was vintage 2006, her grand kids danced to it. She found it the best kind of exercise, the kind you don’t notice you’re doing. It carried her away every bit as much as Johann Sebastian Bach. Sometimes a kid would put his arm around her on the dance floor to have his friends take a picture with her; she didn’t care. Until the night a boy who’d watched her came up to the bar where she was downing a glass of water and smiled at her with glaringly white teeth that meant he’d only been drinking coffee for a year or two. “What are you doing here”? he asked in a pure sweet way that she knew was simple curiosity, like looking at an albino alligator in the zoo, not meant to offend. His beautiful girlfriend slid in between them.

After that she found a room downtown. She invested in a set of Bang & Olufsen headphones when her neighbor asked her to please turn down the volume.

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8 Comments
  1. Marylisa Tencer permalink

    Hard to let go of beauty…but really it’s only a gift. Hope all is well!

  2. I never thought of it like that! But yes.

  3. gene permalink

    where did this come from, not sure how this picture and the words jumped into your consciousness, or unconsciousness. there is something so terribly self possessed, and yet lonely…………………about this dancer…………such is the dichotomy of life ? gg

  4. Daniel Pulitzer Robinowitz permalink

    I know who this story is about–but I won’t tell anyone!

  5. Gloria Wilkerson permalink

    I loved this story. In a way, it reminded me of me!

  6. pam winton permalink

    CP, Great to meet you today. Love the combination of art and stories.
    pam

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