On the day of weddings, John and Greg were required to wear brown one piece shiny jumpsuits that had embroidered oval name tags. They were required to wear these as directed by a woman with a tight bun and click clacky heels.
Parquet floors reflecting the warm glow of crystal chandeliers, grand piano in place, the lead soprano of the Washington Opera awaiting her accompanist to begin her warm up. My brother notices her distress and approaches her. "I can accompany you if you have your music."
The strands of La Bohemia reaching the event director's office were soon followed by the click clacking of her heels across the marble foyer. "How many times have I directed that you are NEVER EVER to touch this piano! This is a $40.00 a minute wedding! It is specially tuned. Your job here is done for now, wait in your room until I call you."
My brother did as he was told. "The accompanist is unable to be here. Can you play for the soloist?" My brother, tall and handsome in his tuxedo politely replied, "No I can't. I'm worth more than $40.00 a minute." With that he calmly returned to his room.