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Joshua Doležal's avatar

I enjoyed this, David. Nicely structured! Vividly rendered. Good reminder of how difficult it can be to resist others' distorted representations of us, even if we know, intellectually, that the exchange is more about the other person's baggage than about us.

I'm dodging your mooching question with a craft one: why not give us the time of day and the ocean breeze and the particular slant of sun? Why not just paint the scene without calling attention to what you don't remember? My own feeling is that a little invention in scenes like this is not only permissible, but actually essential to drawing a reader into the emotional truth of a memory. I've never been to the Hamptons. Why not take me there?

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Abby's avatar

Interesting piece, David. It seems to me your story isn't really about mooching, however, but about how the rich feel about people who benefit from their wealth. In this sense, "moochers" are both the "untouchables" of your world and, at the same time, the people who provide many rich people with a twisted sense of self-worth. (Your story is also about jealousy btw, which is a whole other topic!)

As an outside observer of this phenomena who has sometimes been caught in the crossfire, allow me to offer a story and a question. I'll start with the question. What is the line between being a "moocher" and the natural give and take of family and community? And - now I'm going to twist the question - how does the fear of being seen as a "moocher" impact family and friends' ability to be in community with wealthy people, and vice versa?

And here is my somewhat similar / somewhat different story. Sixteen years ago, a probable-billionaire offered my husband and me a great and unexpected gift - to host our wedding at his estate. My husband's father, a master craftsman who had recently died, had spent many years helping build the estate, so my husband accepted the offer with great joy.

And here is where the chalice became poisoned. We met before the wedding to discuss logistics and dates. At the end of the meeting, the probable-billionaire cautioned us, almost off-hand "Now, don't expect us to pay for the rest of your wedding." Of course, just as we never would have asked to have the wedding at his estate, such a thing would never have occurred to us.

From that time on, this great gift became a weight around our necks. In one casual sentence, we had moved from a young couple receiving a mitzvah on behalf of a beloved and recently departed friend, to moochers with our hats out begging for more.

In another ironic twist, we wound up supporting my husband's father's business for many years at great financial cost to ourselves. We did it because my husband couldn't bear to let this man who had been his father's close friend down by closing it. The day this business relationship ended was one of the best days of our life.

And the funny thing is, I'd bet you anything all that time this man thought we were the ones mooching off of him!

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