(real names and places have been adjusted so
that I can share this story without losing future business or feeling like an
awful person)
“It’s like you’re Angelina Jolie.”
“Or Madonna!” I suggested.
This is just a typical conversation that
Rebecca and I had recently about my celebrity status. I just wrapped up teaching a four week
session of music classes at a library.
This library happens to be located on the
often-known-to-be-prestigious-well-off-and-yuppy island upon which I grew up. Ms. Librarian, at this library, was, for the
most part very nice, helpful and accommodating, but she was also kinda somethin’
else.
After talking to the librarians at the two
libraries that I taught at a couple of years ago she called me in a panic.
“Look,” Ms. Librarian said, “They raved about
your music program, but they also said that it caused rioting.”
“Uh, rioting?” I asked.
“Yes, rioting and we just can’t have rioting
here at the Yuppy Island Library.”
The “rioting” that she was referring to was
the fact that, due to the number of instruments I have, we have to limit the
number of toddler/preschoolers and parental unit/caregivers that can attend
each class. Initially, I’d said, 20
should be the max number, but in order to be more flexible, I said that we
could make it work with 30.
“We’ll have a sign-up sheet for each week
which we won’t put out until the week before each class. I’m going to limit the ages to 2-3 year olds
only this session and make sure to check at the door…” Ms. Librarian said.
(Is she a bouncer?! Do 2-3 year olds carry I.D.s? Would Moms start a black market business of
whipping up fake I.D.’s so their 4 year olds actually appear to be younger and
can attend my class?!)
“Also,” Ms. Librarian continued, “I’m not
going to advertise the class until shortly before it starts, we just can’t
handle having too many… we just can’t have…”
“Rioting?” I offered.
“Yes,” Ms. Librarian agreed. “So, if you
could also not tell anyone about the class.
Don’t mention it on your website, and especially don’t tell your students
from the previous library classes. I don’t want your following here taking the
spots away from the Yuppy Island children.”
I assured her that a.) I don’t have a
website, b.) I don’t typically see any of my previous library students – except
for the occasional random, public sighting when I’m approached and asked for an
autograph (not really, but I have had people come up to me at the grocery story
or library and say, “Aren’t you Ms. Jenny?!
We took your class a few years ago…”). Besides c.) those children would
all be in preschool or Kindergarten now anyway.
Not much of a following. Then,
being the savvy business woman that I’ve become, I suggested that, is she’s
really concerned about accommodating so many students, they could always book
me for two back-to-back classes on each of the four Wednesdays. That way we
could provide music to 60 of the young Yuppy Islanders.
“You know, I wish we could, but you’re very
expensive. You’re cleaning out our 2012
budget.” I mumbled something about how I’m
totally worth it and we signed off the phone.
A few weeks later, Ms. Librarian called again
in a TOTAL panic.
“I don’t know how this happened, but someone
LEAKED the news about your class and it’s all over. It was published in the Yuppy Island
Preschool Association’s newsletter…hundreds of families now know about you
coming here!”
I tried to reassure her, especially since our
first class was the day before Thanksgiving, but I’m pretty sure the poor woman
was about to have a nervous breakdown.
As for Rebecca’s and my conversation about my
celebrity status…She had helpful tips suggesting that I come in with all sorts
of Diva demands like “I’ll need an iced Perrier with two slices of lemon…the
room should be kept at 67 degrees…” etc.
Finally, the first day of class arrived. I got to the library way freakishly earlier
than I needed to primarily to appease Ms. Librarian. It only takes me about five minutes to set-up
but I knew she’d be having a fit if it was getting closer to class time and I
wasn’t there yet.
As I set up my stuff, she tried – she tried
so very hard – to be helpful. But I’ve
realized, I’ve done this for long enough now, I’m kind of a well-oiled machine.
As I pulled out my box of egg shakers she
said, “We have some egg shakers that you’re welcome to use.”
“Oh, thanks, I think I’ll have more than enough
though. I brought enough for 30+ kids.”
I pulled out my little boombox. “You can use
our stereo if you’d like.”
“That’s OK.
Thank you. I’ve got mine all
ready to go. Thanks!”
I pulled out my water bottle. “Can I get you some water or anything?” (And yes, she WAS watching me do all this
before she asked).
“Um, nope, I’m set, thanks.”
“Is there anything you’d like?” Ms. Librarian
asked.
I looked at her and completely seriously
said, “I’d really love a backrub.”
She paused – startled for a minute, “Oh—“
“I’m kidding,” I quickly said. “Nope, I’m fine,
thanks for the help though.”
Anyway, that first class that we (she) was so
very worried about was a piece of cake.
And, because it WAS the day before Thanksgiving it was not a crazy mass
hoard of rioting mothers and toddlers at all.
We actually only had about 20 kiddos plus their adult chaperone. After class, as I packed up my stuff, Ms.
Librarian chattered on and on about how great it was and how she loved all the
early literacy components that I included (she said the same thing to me after
every class).
“I do wish we could have you more, but you’re
just so expensive and we don’t have anything left in the budget…”
(Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before, I
thought).
Each week went about the same, she’d
introduce me and say that my program was provided by the wonderful Friends of
the Yuppy Island, and “Now, let’s all give Ms. Jenny a warm welcome,” and
everyone would clap while I smiled and nodded awkwardly. And then each class went smashingly well
followed by Ms. Librarian raving to me about how great it was – kind of ad
naseum. After my last class on Wednesday,
she handed me a small envelope and then proceeded to tell me that it was a thank
you note and went on to explain the contents.
I will say though, Ms. Librarian, does seem to be acting upon her
admiration. She asked if she can tell
all of the other library branches about my program and highly recommend
it. I can imagine what she’d said, “Ms.
Jenny’s program is great….etc….but she is a little pricey…” But then hopefully,
after experiencing it four times and raving about it she WILL add, “But she’s
worth every penny.”
STARS! THEY'RE JUST LIKE US!
They attend their child's 1st grade music concert.
(Photo snapped by Paparazzi photographer, Matthew, age 9).
No comments:
Post a Comment