Crashing a Bar Mitzvah — Part II
The deed is done and I’ve lived to tell the tale.
Let me start from the very beginning… I had a late start and aimed to get there an hour after the start time. On the drive there, to get pumped, I cranked up Rocky’s theme song. I bet Bill Conti would never had guessed how his song would be used. While rocking to the music, my mind was racing. How am I going to pull it off? Who should I say I am? What’s my approach?
Different scenarios kept running through my head.
Here is what I was picturing: a dimly lit ballroom with ten tables, a DJ playing music in the background. There’d be a dance floor. After the dinner, there’d be some dancing. I thought I’d just go sit at a table with empty seats and chat with my table. Take a picture and get out of there. If I feel really bold, maybe get on the dance floor for one song before I high tail out of there.
Who should I say I am though, if I were asked?
Well, being Asian, I obviously don’t blend in. It will have to be via marriage. Perhaps, I can say I’m so-and-so’s date. But who if they ask me? Uncle Danny who is running late? Or, maybe I will just say I’m one of the kid’s step-mom, and I’m here a little early to pick him up, then mingle and say Hi to a few people. What if I run into the Mom though who probably knows all the kids’ parents? Hmm.. another approach would be to say I met one of the the guests in the hotel lobby and they invited me after he heard that I’ve never been to a Bar Mitzvah before and turn my Asian heritage to my advantage.
Finally, I would need an escape plan if people started getting suspicious. I figured I’d just say, oh I’m at the wrong birthday party and leave before anyone put the two and two together.
Time flew, I got to the hotel. With this half assed plan worked out, I walked into the lobby.
The front desk casually told me the room the Bar Mitzvah was being held in. It’s at the end of a long winding hallway. I feel my heart pounding. What did I get myself into?!?! I prayed that it would be a large party. Next thing you know, I’m right outside the room. The double doors were wide open. Inside is a well lit room with four round tables. No music playing, no dance floor. People were eating their dinners, quietly chatting with one another.
Holly shit! Not at all the raucous, festive affair that I had pictured. At any table, you can pretty much hear, and follow if you wanted, the conversation threads at the other three tables. One table was populated with mostly teenage boys, I figured that’s where my target is sitting. All these took a split second to register. I turned around and started walking away. Thankfully, there was a set couches nearby, and I plopped myself down. They were these deep, cushy couches that you can really sink into. Compared to that room over there, it felt like a safe cocoon where I can hide and disappear forever. I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to be texting while the adrenaline rushed through my body.
This is DEFINITELY not what I had signed up for. And there is no way I can pull this off. If I walked into the room, all eyes would be on me. It would be VERY obvious. And my conversations will be heard throughout the room. Looking back into the room at the nice, unsuspecting family celebrating their son’s birthday, I feel a pang of guilt.
Abort mission. Abort mission.
I walked away and dialed Dan’s number on my cell phone. I told him the disaster of a room I found and how there is no way it could be done. He laughed the whole way through my monologue and when he could pull himself together, told me that I have no choice but to go through with it. People have already made their donations to charity for these dares and I will need to hold up my end of the bargain. After some more back and forth, he finally said “Look, all you have to do is go in there and somehow get a picture with the birthday boy and then get out. Now go for it!”
Easier said than done. But somehow the pep talk worked. I needed to figure out a way to get a picture, while being respectful and not making a scene.. What to do.. What to do.. Then, slowly a plan emerged.
I looked down, boy am I glad that I picked this dress — a dark grey businessy dress. I had picked it on account that it is nondescript and least likely to draw attention. The businessy aspect will come in handy, as you shall see. I looked at my knee-length oversized puffer coat and my bag, they will have to go. I quickly walked over to the hotel restaurant and checked both my coat and my bag. The lady thought it was weird that I had checked my purse, along with my coat, but she didn’t say anything. All I kept is my cell phone to take the picture with and the birthday gift I had brought. Yes, that was a good call. I had brought it to be nice — a thank you/sorry gift to somehow atone for my transgression. Now I will use it as a prop.
I winded through the long hallway again and stepped into the room and walked straight to the nearest table. I asked softly,
“Can you tell me who is the host of the party?” The person pointed to a lady sitting at the same table. She is in her late thirties / early forties with shoulder length light brown hair. She was very good looking and younger than I had expected. I shook her hand.
“Hi, I’m from the catering department. How is everything going and how’s the service so far?”
“Oh, everything’s going great!” She gave me broad, a friendly smile. Which induced another pang of guilt, but pressing on..
“There is no rush at all, for planning purposes I wanted to know how much longer you will be needing the room.”
“Oh, we should be right on schedule. Another hour or so.”
“Wonderful! Oh, I almost forgot. I have a birthday present here. The front desk asked me to bring it over. Someone had dropped it off.” Everyone looked interested. “So, who’s the birthday boy?” My plan was to walk over to the table full of teenage boys to deliver the gift, then, somehow ask one of his friends to take a picture of the two of us.
“The birthday GIRL you mean.” Shoot, this is a Bat Mitzvah (the girl equivalent). The Mom pointed to a girl sitting at the same table, long brown hair, very pretty. I gave her the gift and she opened it. It’s a card-based game. She didn’t care about the gift much but started speculating who might have dropped it off.
I guess the delivery is done and I’m supposed to be going but I still haven’t gotten a picture yet. Think! Fast! I turned to the Mom. “So how old is the birthday girl?”
“Oh, she just turned thirteen. This is her Bat Mitzvah dinner.”
“In my culture, we have music and dance in celebrations.” I had no idea where what I was going with that one, just buying some time.
“Oh, we are having a celebration for her tomorrow.” Damn! Now you tell me.
“Also in my culture, it’s lucky to take a picture with someone on their birthday. Do you mind?” I pulled that out of my butt and I cringed internally as I said those words. I was fully prepared to leave at that point.
“Oh sure.” She said. I handed her my iPhone and she took a picture of me and the birthday girl.
“Have a great time! Let me know if you need anything!”
With that, I high tailed out of there.
Lessons learned:
1. Never do that again.
2. Never become a spy (I knew how Leonardo DiCaprio’s character in the Departed must have felt).
3. Never do that again.
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Crashing a Bar Mitzvah — Part I
This dare is actually proposed by my husband Dan, who is Jewish for those you who don’t know. He had initially tossed around the idea of crashing a wedding but he raised the bar — as an Asian woman, I would have no where to hide. Since I consider myself an honorary member of the Jewish community and know I mean no disrespect, I added the dare to my roster.
First thing first. How do you find out where & when a Bar Mitzvah is being held?
It’s actually a little trickier than I anticipated. Initially, I relied solely on Internet research. One temple had listings on their online calendar but it’s only for the ceremony. I’m aiming to crash the party afterwards and many of them are held at different locations. I could attend the ceremony but I would risk getting caught before the party even starts. January is coming to an end and I have limited time to make good on my pledge. It would have to be this weekend. I will need to get on the phone and make it personal.
After calling a number of function halls that advertises Bar Mitzvah in their marketing material in and around Massachusetts. Nothing seems to be happening this weekend. I had to try a different approach. I asked around my personal network for a popular Bar Mitzvah venue, John told me a hotel that’s particularly popular. So I called up the reservations desk at 9:20pm on Tuesday evening.
Hotel Staff: This is Kimberly at the Marriott, how may I assist you? (name & place changed to protect the innocent)
Me: Hi, I’m an out of town guest attending the Bar Mitzvah this weekend. I just wanted to check and make sure the celebration is on Saturday, not Sunday, before I book my reservations.
Hotel Staff: Ok, let me check.. What’s the name of the Bar Mitzvah?
Me: Danny Friedman
Hotel Staff: Hold on please… (1 minute later) I’m sorry, I’m not seeing Friedman on the calendar. The only one we have is the Goldberg Bar Mitzvah at noon on Saturday.
Bingo!!!
Now that the logistics are out of the way and the event imminent, my mind keeps running through worst case scenarios. What if I get caught? I could potentially get arrested.. It would go on my record.. Do I want to be known for the rest of my life as the-Asian-mother-who-crashed-a-Bar-Mitzvah?
Then, there is the moral dilemma. Just how wrong is it to crash a birthday party? What if I were in their shoes. Part of me is actually pretty concerned about doing the right thing. You see, if I had decided to crash a party on the spur of the moment, none of this would have entered my mind and I would have blamed the consequences on the foolishness of.. middle age. But now I’ve had time to ponder, it’s no longer an act of passion, but pre-meditated transgression.
In the end, I convinced myself to go for it:
1. It’s for charity
2. I won’t eat any of the food, so I won’t be stealing
3. I will bring a present
and that’s that.
Pray for me..
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Care Dares 
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