美國短篇小說家John Cheever（1912─1982）擅長描寫都市裡白領階級的百態。

我最後一次和父親相聚是在紐約的中央車站，因為要轉車前往母親的住處，我有一個半小時能和父親見面吃個中飯。他的祕書回信說中午十二點在詢問台碰面。父母親離婚已經三年了，我也有三年沒見過他，但我一眼就在人群中認出他，雖然有些陌生但他畢竟是我的父親，影響到我的未來及我的命運。

I saw him coming through the crowd. He was a stranger to me-my mother divorced him three years ago, and I hadn't been with him since - but as soon as I saw him I felt that he was my father, my flesh and blood, my future and my doom.

父親一把挽住我，他高大英挺，身上散發濃濃的男人味，是酒氣、古龍水、鞋油及毛料衣服交織的味道。見到父親我好開心，真希望有個熟人能幫我們拍張照片。他說時間不夠，只能帶我到附近巷子裡用餐。坐下後他扯著喉嚨大叫：「快送兩杯酒來！」兩隻手掌同時拍出很大的聲響，在空蕩蕩的餐廳裡顯得很突兀。站在廚房旁的老侍者靜靜地說：「你很不禮貌，我想你們最好到別家餐廳。」到了另一家餐廳，他不像先前那麼叫囂，他問我一些棒球賽的事。喝完酒，他拿起餐桌上的刀子敲酒杯大叫：「再來兩杯！」侍者問：「這男孩幾歲？」「這你不用管！」「抱歉，我不能再給他酒喝了。」

I followed my father out of that restaurant into another. He was not so boisterous this time. Our drinks came, and he cross-questioned me about the baseball season. He then struck the edge of his empty glass with his knife and began shouting again. "You! Could we trouble you to bring us two more of the same"..."I'm sorry, sir," the waiter said, "but I won't serve the boy another drink."

父親再帶我到另一家餐廳，這裡的侍者穿著像在打獵的粉紅色夾克，父親坐下後又朝著侍者大叫：「送酒來！」他已經醉得連酒的名字都講錯了。侍者笑著更正他，父親卻很氣憤地說：「別跟我辯！照我說的送。」我們走出來時，父親大聲咒罵：「我真受不了這些魯莽的傭人。」最後我們走進一家義大利餐廳，父親醉醺醺地說了一大串義大利語，侍者找來領班，領班說：「抱歉，所有的餐桌都有人預訂了。」「我明白你不讓我們在這裡吃，去你的─」我告訴父親我必須去趕搭火車了。「再見，爸爸！」我穿過地下道搭上地鐵，結束了最後一次與父親的相聚。

"All the tables are reserved," the captain said. "I get it," my father said. "You don't desire our patronage. Is that it Well, the hell with you." "I have to get my train, goodbye, Daddy," I said, and I went down the stairs and got my train, and that was the last time I saw my father.

  父親傲慢粗魯的言行破壞了我們短暫重聚的喜悅，讓我羞愧得只想當場離開他，永遠不要再見面。