Class Warfare Again???

It was a Saturday night. My daughter was excited about her jazz concert at school that evening. She plays violin in the school's jazz orchestra. We didn't know much about the concert. We assumed that it would be in the school gym, there would be music stands and chairs set up, they would play their songs, and then we'd call it a day. The jazz band and the jazz chorus was also going to perform so we were ready for a pleasant evening.

Before the concert, my daughter told us that there would be tables set up so that the parents and guests could enjoy it, being modeled after a real cabaret. It was called a 'Jazzeray'. This sounded intriguing, and I couldn't wait to see what it was all about.

We entered the school about a half hour early as my daughter was instructed. My husband and I then walked towards the gym. At the door, there were piles of fold up chairs and he picked up two of them. We entered the gym and this is where things got a little spooky.

There were indeed tables set up but there were obviously not enough to hold all the people that were present. "Aha", I thought, "This is why we had to bring in chairs." All of the tables were taken and, in the back of the gym were all the 'have nots' that didn't get there early enough. They looked like a poor lot, being cast aside in fourth class steerage. We were then among them, carrying our chairs to an empty spot and sitting. There were donuts at each table, courtesy of Dunkin' Donuts. The plates were wrapped in plastic wrap unopened since no one wanted to look like a pig and dig in.

We, in steerage, could only look longingly at the 'Tables' as we called those people. They had so idea of the misery of the 'Floors' (us). They sat back in their chairs laughing and lounging and drinking their bottles of water (provided by Panera Bread). At the side of the gym was a small tray with around 10 bottles of water for the 'Floors'. "Would you like some?", my husband asked. I usually am not a water bottle drinker, but I said yes just to say I could. "I'll get it", I told him, since I wanted to check out what other goodies were at the table. It was a sad sight. There were two large cakes for the students, and one pathetic plastic container of chocolate chip cookies, unopened. I was so hungry that even those little hockey puck looking things looked good. I didn't take any, though, since I didn't want to look like a pig, sort of like the 'Tables' waiting to be the first one.

I returned to my seat with the water bottles salivating at the "Tables' tables. The donuts beckoned me, but I felt like I wasn't allowed to interfere in their glee by asking them to share. I'm sure they would have told me to go back to the bottom quarters of the ship where I belonged.

My husband then noticed that some people had programs for the show. I volunteered to get one at the other side of the gym. I walked boldly to the other side knowing that the 'Tables' didn't even notice me since they were so busy enjoying this 'Jazzeray'. I notice a table near the door with programs and took two. On the other side of the door there were, again those miserable chocolate chip cookies but this time, the container was OPEN!! I glanced around hoping none of the 'Tables' saw me and scorned my pilfering. I took two. They were indeed hockey puck looking, but to me they looked heavenly. I returned to my seat, my husband looking strangely at me with my booty (the cookies, not my rear).

Finally, the gym was hushed and the announcer came to the podium. "Good evening!', she said, "Welcome to our Jazzeray Cabaret. Please help yourself to the donuts at your tables, courtesy of Dunkin' Donuts (shameless plug). We hope you enjoy the show!" I half expected to see the 'Floors' behind me with pitchforks and burning torches just waiting to attack the 'Tables'. Luckily they were well behaved. That was probably due to the discipline instilled in them by their hard working lower class parents.

The concert began. The students worked very hard because it was quite enjoyable. After two selections, however, a student walked on stage with a roulette kind of thing. On it, there were spaces for each numbered table, (yes, they had numbers on them). The announcer explained how the game worked. The student would spin the wheel. Then the table that it landed on would have to answer a trivia question about the Beatles. The table that answered the most questions correctly would be able to come up on stage at the end of the concert to sing 'Hey Jude' with the chorus. The 'Tables' were laughing at the thought of this 'fun' game, but the 'Floors' could only scowl knowing that, once again, they could only look but not touch.

The joy and mirth at this game was undeniable at the 'Tables' tables. We waited quietly for them to finish their game and enjoyed the next few songs.

Once again, after the song ended, out came the wheel again and the whole nightmare started again. I threw my head on my husband's shoulder and said, "Just kill me now".

Finally after a few more songs and a few more 'fun' trivia games, the concert was over. I glanced at the tables all around and saw that there were a lot of donuts left. "I'm waiting for the 'Tables' to leave to I can scavange their bounty". He looked at me forlornly probably because of the glare in my eyes. I saw one empty table and walked around it looking at the plate to see which goody I could steal and there it was. The donut of my dreams. Quickly I grabbed it, along with a napkin, of course, and started gobbling it down. We then walked out of the gym and into the hallway. I was still scarfing the poor little donut victim down when I realized there were parents around that I knew. "Hi!", I tried to say to them, but the frosting from the donut was all around my mouth by then. I turned towards the wall to clean up, but still had a mouthful when I turned back around. I quickly swallowed it and smiled politely.

We went back into the gym to recover our daughter and saw her standing with her friends eating the cake that was brought for the students. "Hi!", we said, "that was a great concert!"
"Thanks", she replied. On the table in front of her was a piece of the chocolate cake. "Do you want that?", she asked me, "It's extra". I didn't hesitate and grabbed for it. My husband, again, looked forlornly at me knowing that the experience made me stoop to a new low. He didn't realize the being a 'Floor' was humiliating and I wanted to take what was rightly mine. Fortunately my daughter didn't know until later that I was a pig and ate two cookies, one donut, and one piece of cake. If she did, she would be embarassed for the rest of her life at the desperation of her mother.

I can't wait for next years 'Jazzeray'....