There are so many aspects of making a simcha. Folks try their best in picking a menu, a band, what they say in their speeches. No one does anything with the intention of making it unenjoyable for their guests—they want everyone to be happy. But is that really true? I would like to dedicate this column to the complexities of seating. For those that know me and have had me at their simchas, I am not talking about you. I loved my table. It was the best table ever. It was the best party ever. And I will assume that if you cut me from the list of your next simcha, you are doing it because of husband #1, not because of this column.
There are many different kinds of tables. At my wedding, we had a dais with my parents on one side, husband #1 and I in the middle, and my in laws on the other side. I am not quite sure why we ended up doing it that way, but I am sure there was some sort of heated “discussion” that led to this decision. In any event, as I was saying, different types of tables. The family tables, the work tables, the tables where you can combine friends and family because they might be distantly related. The singles table. The table of friends who you wish were your family. But of all the different types of tables, my favorite it the “Hop-Lop-Tsap” table.
What is the “Hop-Lop-Tsop” table, you ask innocently? This is a table where people from different walks of life end up sitting next to each other. Chances are, you have no idea who any of these people are. Chances are you were only invited because it was some sort of obligation and they had to put you somewhere. I guess you should be grateful that you have a seat. Just think if they forgot about you altogether and you had to scan the ballroom for the two or four empty seats and just plop yourself down. Hop-Lop-Tsop is better than no table at all!
So you are at the table and one of two things happens. Before the simcha, the person making the simcha says something like, “We think you are so nice, so we knew you would make these other people feel comfortable.” This is code for, “I really don’t like you, but my spouse made me invite you and this was the compromise.” Or “My other friends are really obnoxious and if I didn’t put them all together they would stop talking to me.” Yes, these things really happen.
Though I still feel it is better to be warned that you are at this table than not told at all. If you aren’t forewarned, you spend the rest of the evening trying to figure out what you did to anger the person making the simcha. And then there is someone like me. The person who has some “difficulties” with other people. No one knows who I’m on speaking terms with at any given time. Some care and some don’t. The ones that care try their hardest to put me at a table that will make me happy. Which is translation for “I am on good terms with at least two people at the table.” This is greatly appreciated. And husband #1 really appreciates it because then I don’t spend the whole night negotiating an exit strategy.
Who would think that seating would be such a big deal? Well, for five years, I ran a shul dinner. It doesn’t matter which shul. And seating was the bane of my existence. I didn’t know half of the people that I was seating, so it became a card game—literally. We would write people’s names on index cards and try to put tables together. Some years worked and some years not so much. Perhaps that is what led to the downfall of the dinner and the introduction of the “gala kiddish,” but that story is for another time. You would assume that if people requested other people, it meant that those other people would want to sit with the people requesting them. Live and learn, kid, live and learn.
So the moral of this column is the following—a simcha is about the simcha, not who you sit with. It is about the bar mitzvah boy, the bat mitzvah girl, the young couple embarking on a new life together. It is not about the person who isn’t speaking to you for Lord knows what reason. People are crazy. That’s the bottom line. Put a smile on your face and just eat the bread. That is what it is there for.
May we all only have simchas to celebrate!
By Banji Latkin Ganchrow
Banji Ganchrow is a big fan of bread at a simcha, especially if there are pats of margarine involved. Nothing says “I love you” like a tasty carb…
