As a daughter, I was fairly convinced that meant that I could take the easy way out. Although I do carry the Schreibman family name around with me on my license, business cards, in my email address, etc., I was pretty certain that was my only obligation to the name…that is, until this past weekend.
My father is a big part of the Sebastopol Rotary Club (which rocks, by the way!) and not to brag but he’s kind of a big deal. And it’s not like I didn’t know that my dad was amazing and that he cared about helping charities, raising money, etc. but I got a great reminder of this at the annual Lobster Feed, which my family attended this past weekend.
Here’s how the night played out in an extremely condensed version: arrive on time, check in, collect personal wine glass, drink a lot, eat yummy appetizers, watch huge pots of boiling water with great food in them, drink some more, sit down, cheer for a lot of things, watch the lobster pot being poured onto our table, consume massive amounts of food, drink, get a lobster hat and wear it, bid on auction items, drink, bid, drink, bid, get elbowed by other bidders vying for my item, check out, find my brother sharing a cigar with some fellas, go home. All in all, GREAT night! But there was one particular moment that could not have happened and I would have been just fine.
Here’s the scene: The night is ending and you must go to the cashier to pay your dues on what you bid on, what you’ve donated, etc. throughout the evening. After I had been so politely told that I would not be getting my auction item (via the mouth of the hoverer who actually out-bid herself just cause she knew I couldn’t afford any higher), I decided to go check out. I walk in, purse in hand, and I already have a plan of attack. I know that because I didn’t get my auction item I had only successfully donated $10 to help children learn to swim, and $10 is a very low number, and I was already embarrassed by it before I walked in the room. (Initially I had wanted to donate $50 and then throughout my drinking extravaganza I was going to spend $100 toward charity.)
So, I walk into the cashier room, and, of course, it’s just me and one other lady in the room amid like 6 cashiers. And, of course, the “lady” just so happened to be the previous president of the Rotary Club, whom I have met before (because she knows my father…). The minute I walk into the brightly lit room (which sucked in itself cause I was pretty drunk and it was a shock), former-president lady says, very loudly, “This is David Schreibman’s daughter!” Not only was I caught off guard, but I’m still not sure what prompted her exclamation, or who really cared…but, boy did it get a reaction. Every single person behind the long desk looked up if they weren’t already staring at me and let out a long “ahhhhh” of realization.
Already embarrassed, I smile widely and move toward one of the cashiers. My plan to ask them to change my donation from $10 to $50 was slowly losing its chance at panning out – this I already knew in my mind. Still, with a slight bit of confidence, I show them my bid number and they bring up my bill. “So…we have $10 here to help children swim….” He looks up at me. “Uhhhh…ummmm…well, I was trying to bid on some stuff in the silent auction and those people are feisty out there! Some woman actually elbowed me to outbid me!” I immediately say even though he hadn’t really questioned my small donation. Everyone laughed and definitely thought I was hilarious. (It’s also important to note that I am wearing a bright red lobster hat and a lobster necklace.)
Once the laughter subsided, the man in front of me looked up and said, “Oh, well, your dad would be proud!” (in a completely sarcastic tone). Again, everyone laughed. My face turned red and I, again, proclaimed my intentions on donating more. Then I handed over my debit card (another bright-eyed moment as it was only $10 after all), and I didn’t have the gumption to say anything about making the donation more money (because I felt like if I said something they would think it was because they were mocking me and that is not what I wanted to portray). Transaction finally complete, I walked out feeling like a loser and shaking my head at myself. I immediately ran to tell my brother and Eric…and they laughed at me as well. Humor probably saved me here, as it does in so many other situations.
The moral of the story is that my dad has set the bar pretty damn high. And Rotary donation aside, he makes me want to not only meet his expectations but exceed them on a daily basis. Most days I feel very lucky to have that. Thanks, Dad.
My father is a big part of the Sebastopol Rotary Club (which rocks, by the way!) and not to brag but he’s kind of a big deal. And it’s not like I didn’t know that my dad was amazing and that he cared about helping charities, raising money, etc. but I got a great reminder of this at the annual Lobster Feed, which my family attended this past weekend.
Here’s how the night played out in an extremely condensed version: arrive on time, check in, collect personal wine glass, drink a lot, eat yummy appetizers, watch huge pots of boiling water with great food in them, drink some more, sit down, cheer for a lot of things, watch the lobster pot being poured onto our table, consume massive amounts of food, drink, get a lobster hat and wear it, bid on auction items, drink, bid, drink, bid, get elbowed by other bidders vying for my item, check out, find my brother sharing a cigar with some fellas, go home. All in all, GREAT night! But there was one particular moment that could not have happened and I would have been just fine.
Here’s the scene: The night is ending and you must go to the cashier to pay your dues on what you bid on, what you’ve donated, etc. throughout the evening. After I had been so politely told that I would not be getting my auction item (via the mouth of the hoverer who actually out-bid herself just cause she knew I couldn’t afford any higher), I decided to go check out. I walk in, purse in hand, and I already have a plan of attack. I know that because I didn’t get my auction item I had only successfully donated $10 to help children learn to swim, and $10 is a very low number, and I was already embarrassed by it before I walked in the room. (Initially I had wanted to donate $50 and then throughout my drinking extravaganza I was going to spend $100 toward charity.)
So, I walk into the cashier room, and, of course, it’s just me and one other lady in the room amid like 6 cashiers. And, of course, the “lady” just so happened to be the previous president of the Rotary Club, whom I have met before (because she knows my father…). The minute I walk into the brightly lit room (which sucked in itself cause I was pretty drunk and it was a shock), former-president lady says, very loudly, “This is David Schreibman’s daughter!” Not only was I caught off guard, but I’m still not sure what prompted her exclamation, or who really cared…but, boy did it get a reaction. Every single person behind the long desk looked up if they weren’t already staring at me and let out a long “ahhhhh” of realization.
Already embarrassed, I smile widely and move toward one of the cashiers. My plan to ask them to change my donation from $10 to $50 was slowly losing its chance at panning out – this I already knew in my mind. Still, with a slight bit of confidence, I show them my bid number and they bring up my bill. “So…we have $10 here to help children swim….” He looks up at me. “Uhhhh…ummmm…well, I was trying to bid on some stuff in the silent auction and those people are feisty out there! Some woman actually elbowed me to outbid me!” I immediately say even though he hadn’t really questioned my small donation. Everyone laughed and definitely thought I was hilarious. (It’s also important to note that I am wearing a bright red lobster hat and a lobster necklace.)
Once the laughter subsided, the man in front of me looked up and said, “Oh, well, your dad would be proud!” (in a completely sarcastic tone). Again, everyone laughed. My face turned red and I, again, proclaimed my intentions on donating more. Then I handed over my debit card (another bright-eyed moment as it was only $10 after all), and I didn’t have the gumption to say anything about making the donation more money (because I felt like if I said something they would think it was because they were mocking me and that is not what I wanted to portray). Transaction finally complete, I walked out feeling like a loser and shaking my head at myself. I immediately ran to tell my brother and Eric…and they laughed at me as well. Humor probably saved me here, as it does in so many other situations.
The moral of the story is that my dad has set the bar pretty damn high. And Rotary donation aside, he makes me want to not only meet his expectations but exceed them on a daily basis. Most days I feel very lucky to have that. Thanks, Dad.
2 comments:
He is pretty amazing! Your parents are great role models! James and I hope to "grow up" just like them =)
Oh, Macie Schreibman. I adore thee.
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