What’s For Lunch?
I had seen a 10 minute play which starts with a character complaining that when he tried to purchase a bottle of aspirin at a drug store, the clerk told him: “We don’t have that.”
It reminded me of a strange experience I had on Staten Island more than 30 years ago.
We were in Stapleton, a few miles from our home in St. George. It looked like an ordinary luncheonette — big CocaCola sign — soda fountain counter with a row of round stools that you can spin on, and booths along the wall.
The place was empty, but it was not lunch hour. Carol and I sat down with Grace and Eve at one of the booths.







