oh, that's rich...part I: the innocence of wealth
I was once the manager of the ticket box office at two different museums in Fort Worth, TX (at different times, you understand). The first job was at a science museum, the second was at an art museum. They were both fun jobs, although tedious. It was while engaged in these jobs that I discovered that I really wasn't cut out to interact with the general public on a regular basis. Whenever there was some sort of problem or dispute, I would always just cave in and give away tickets for free, because, well, I'm easy like that.
The job afforded me the opportunity, however, to be the manager of over forty or so employees who were in vastly different stages in their lives. At the science museum, I managed high school and college aged kids, at the art museum, it was mostly retired folks who just wanted something easy to do to supplement their fixed incomes.
This post isn't really about that, however, that's just the background. The seed of this post is from a discussion I had with an acquaintance regarding rich people. Yes, that's right, rich people. I expressed to this person that another friend might not like them because they were wealthy. Wealthy people are sometimes disliked by those of us with fewer means. How does this relate to being a box office manager? Interestingly enough, it does, in a round about sort of way.
You see, when I was managing at the science museum, I hired a few high school kids who came from decidedly wealthy families. Old money families, we called them in Fort Worth. Families who'd been in the area since the late 1800s and had built up so much wealth that they were quite separate from the rest of the city, yet owned large parcels of the city. These two kids were interesting to have around, and interesting to try and manage. They were nice kids though. Their parents wanted them to get "jobs" so they could see what it was like to "work" for their money. Admirable enough, I think, so I just went with it. The little sister of the duo who worked for me was quite interesting (and here's where I relate a little story about her that I find fun). One weeknight evening, when there were very few customers, and the only people working the box office was this "rich kid" and myself, I decided that the time had come to vacuum the box office. The girl said "ooh! can I do it?"
"Uh.. sure" I replied. "Why are you so gung-ho to vacuum?"
"I've never done it before!" she said.
"What?" I said, with some skepticism. "How old are you again?"
"Seventeen."
"You're seventeen and you've never vacuumed a day in your life? Who vacuums your house, your mom?"
"HA!! No no no.. we have maids." she said over her laughter.
"I see." I said, finally understanding. "So you're figuring this is your big chance to learn how to use a vacuum cleaner, right?"
"Yeah! I can't wait! How does it work?"
So, that evening, I taught a seventeen year old debutante how to use a vacuum cleaner. I wondered to myself in silence what it must be like to not know how to do such common place things like this. We talked more into the evening, after her successful cleaning of the box office area, about what her life was really like. Her world was so incredibly different than mine, we discovered. I told her how I grew up, that in the town I grew up in, we were considered wealthy because our house was made of brick. Hers was a world of debutante balls and travel and parties.
I remember asking about what she thought of when she saw homeless people. She really didn't have an answer. She just generally said she was confused about how someone could become homeless. It was an interesting evening. I remember some time after this, my wife and I met the rich kid duo's parents in downtown Fort Worth at a beer/Oktoberfest type festival. They were friendly, and thanked me for being their manager at the museum. They even gave me several free beer tasting tokens.
I don't know what has become of this young lady, she'd be almost thirty by now. I wonder if she's married money and is happy. I hope she is. But what I really hope is that she vacuums her own house.
In my next post, I rub shoulders with the "big boss" of Fort Worth, TX.Labels: richie rich
