Because You Never Know Who Might be Watching

I was hard at work in my classroom, when Mari poked her head in the door, and indicated that she needed to speak with me in the hall. This only means that one of my kids is in trouble for something.

Fortunately, I was wrong!

Shocker #1: Mari's friend is too sick to attend the Daughtry concert that night, so she's invited me to go in her place!

Our group (which included myself, Mari, Lisa, Lisa's husband, and their two daughters; one of the girls a former student of mine, now a sophomore in high school) went to the doors to wait in line at about 6:15. The venue featured a "general admission" seating, so we knew we needed to get there early. While in line, Lisa suddenly recognizes a student from our school.

Shocker #2: It's a student of mine from last year. Remember crutch girl #2? Looks like her parents are taking her and her little friend out to the same concert we're going to.

Isn't that nice.

They're walking to the end of the line (which is now quite long) so they pass without noticing us. We're all quite relieved, because each of us have experience with this girl, and none of us care to call attention to ourselves. We each share stories, recalling things that the sneaky girl tried to get away with, and that the mom defended to the end, occasionally resulting in calling staff members names. Can you blame us for not wanting to socialize with her outside of our contractual hours?

The concert was great. We were right up at the front, just about 10 feet away from the nearest performer on the stage at any given time. Our early arrival really paid off. I was comforted to know that Crutch Girl and her family would be nowhere near us, based on how long the line was when they arrived.

During the last song of the encore, I suddenly become aware that someone has pushed herself between me and Lisa's husband, who I was standing next to. She's yelling something to Lisa's husband about "her daughter." It doesn't take me long to register who it is.

Shocker #3: And a quick look in front of us, clinging to the rail by the stage, reveals none other than Crutch Girl #2.

Crutch Girl's Mom is facing Lisa's husband, screaming at him to let her through, and he's holding tight to his hard-earned real estate on the floor. She gets her elbows working, and finally pushes Lisa's husband a little too hard, to which she receives a huge push from him, sending her...

...right into me! I fall back into the crowd behind me, who is sympathetic, and also angry about this little hot-headed lady thinking she can push up to the front. She's claiming that she's just trying to get up to her daughter, who has gone off without her. But my year of experience with her tells me that the truth is that she suggested that Crutch Girl go to the front, and she planned to ride that ticket up to the front, herself.

The pushing dies down, and Crutch Girl's Mom settles into a spot right in front of me. Fortunately, she's quite a bit shorter than me. And fortunately, I had just enough professional strength in my reserves to refrain from backhanding her. Because get this: she still has not noticed either me, Mari, or Lisa, all around her. She's completely oblivious that she's surrounded by staff members from her kids' school.

The next day, at school, I was working in my classroom while my class was at recess. Guess who walks through my door?

Shocker #4: Yeah.

She's got an envelope in her hands, and she says, "Do you have a second to look at something?"

"Sure," I say, standing up from my computer with a professional smile.

"We went to the Daughtry concert last night," she says, as she fans out a one-inch stack of photos on a nearby desk.

Immediately, my mind begins calculating my next move. She's not acting like she saw me, but what if she did, and this is a test? Do I admit I was there, or pretend I wasn't? Quickly, my mouth makes my decision.

"Really? I was there, too!"

"You were?" she's really astounded.

"Yeah! That's so weird!" I lie.

"Where were you?" she asks.

"Oh, we were pretty close to the front, way too close to the speaker," I laugh.

"We were right up at the front!" she tells me.

"Oh, really?" I feel my stomach twisting at hearing her lie to me. I want to out her, but don't want to risk getting into something unfriendly at work.

"I knew you'd like to see these pictures, since you were such a big fan of his last year," she goes on to say.

"Yeah, I didn't get any pictures, because I only went at the last minute, and didn't have a camera," I say, looking at the photos spread in front of me; many of them duplicates, and several enlarged to 8 x 10s. I figured that would provide a nice opportunity for her to offer one of the many pictures of Chris leaning out over the audience, screaming into his microphone with his eyes closed.

But of course she didn't.

"(Crutch Girl #2) will be so excited to hear you were there, too! She's going to be disappointed she didn't see you." She scoops up all of her pictures and tucked them back into her envelope, astounded that we were at the same show and she didn't see me.

"Thank you for showing me your pictures. I'm glad you had such a wonderful time last night," I say, opening up her opportunity to vent about "the jerk who pushed her," and mention seeing someone who looked very much like me there.

But she didn't. And I finally rested, knowing that she definately did not see us there. That her whole reason for this spontaneous Wednesday morning visit really was to show off her pictures and brag about being "in the front row" of the concert.

I should seriously consider taking up acting. Don't you think?