It is not very often that the Reigning Queen Supreme and the Wanna-Be King are able to attend cultural events. They enjoy the arts tremendously. But due to a Kingdom with limited funding and limited cultural options, the opportunities are few and far between.
Last evening, however, was an exception. The time in-between the few and far.
There was culture.
The Kings parents have season tickets to the Opera House. For this particular performance, Verdi’s Nabucco, they weren’t going to be able to attend. So they generously offered their tickets to the Queen. She graciously and excitedly (because she had been to MANY artistic events in her lifetime but NEVER a Verdi Opera) accepted the tickets.
The Royal Couple get all dolled up. The King even wore an outfit that didn’t offend the Queens sense of color and style. The Queen, of course, looked royally queen-like. And they headed towards the cultural center. Well, as close to one as our fair city has.
Kings and Queens from far and wide arrived in their carriages. They mingled in the Opera House foyer, drinking libations and gossiping amongst each other. Including the Reigning Queen and her King. A lovely sweet white for her and vodka with a splash of orange for him. They stood against the wall, sneering…er…inspecting the local royalty and some of the privileged serfs.
Finally, the bell jingled. It was time to be seated for the opera to begin.
And they sat. Right next to some acquaintances of the Kings family. They made small talk in their very wonderful seats, until the lights dimmed and the singing began. Transporting them to biblical times when the Assyrians tried to take over the Hebrews. Nabucco. A beautiful opera. The Queen was enthralled. And transfixed.
They all chose to remain seated. Why fight the crowd. Why wait in lines to use the restrooms. They were comfortable so, they sat. And chatted.
The chatting was innocuous. At first. Children. Jobs. Small talk. Then it took a turn to politics.
They hate Obama. Can’t say I blame them these days. But I’m not going there. Not in this post.
So the Queen, after the couple was ripping on our President (because even though there are still kingdoms run by royalty, there is a President who runs the entire country the kingdoms reside. It’s how it works. Sadly.) announced that she voted for our President.
And the man. Looks at here. Narrows his eyes. Starts foaming at the mouth. Snarls. Points his little finger in her face and says…”You voted him in?! Then you deserve everything bad that happens to your family.” Oh yes. He did. And not only that. He kept repeating that to the Queen.
The Queen? Thanked him and turned her back on him. And did not speak to them for the rest of the intermission or the following intermission.
The Queen realized that, just because anyone can enjoy culture, and some Kingdoms were wealthier than hers, it doesn’t mean that there is any class involved. Only a better than, holier than thou, pretentious approach to life.
And that person…
Who spoke so vile-y to the Queen. Who cursed her family because she voted out of hope for change. And all she really wanted to do, on this particular night of few and far betweens, was to enjoy the beautiful opera with her King…
Was really nothing more than a serf in kings clothing.
Off with his head.