You don't play the piano and you don't know anyone who does. What you do have is money. Lots of it. You are either a doctor or a lawyer by profession. The piano is likely placed in a prominent location in your expansive house, such as tucked under the stairs, where the sound can be muffled, or next to a bay window, where it can echo weirdly off the glass. The lid of your grand piano is always closed. There are photographs of you and your wife and kids arranged tastefully on the top and a soft accent lamp on the left hand side of the music desk which absolutely will not illuminate any part of the music adequately.
You have no taste. Did you mean to order a white piano? On purpose? If yes, you definitely have this bad boy in your living room right next to the fireplace and a tiger print rug. You think you're a real ladies' man but you haven't seen any action since 1983. Your favorite stage show is Siegfried and Roy. You listen to Gordon Lightfoot unironically. You haven't practiced since the Reagan administration.
You used to play, and you were actually pretty good. But that was before the husband and the house and mortgage and the 2.4 kids and soccer practice and ballet lessons and baseball tryouts and karate and you wonder how your life became so complicated. Your husband works in IT. Your kids attend Montessori schools. You eat tacos on Tuesday and meatloaf on Friday. You doomscroll Facebook and Instagram every chance you can. You're currently late for Pilates.
You are either a timetraveller from the 18th century, in which case, hello from the internet! How are you reading this? Or, you're the most gullible person in 17 counties. Someone on craigslist convinced you that this was a "grand piano" because it says so right on the case, and you believed them to the tune of $1,500 and a case of Michelob Light. You work a dead end job and live in a 4-bedroom house with 6 roommates. Your dog has fleas.
You are a music teacher. You value function over form. You are consistently short on both time and money and you have no patience for people who waste either one of yours. You drive a 6-year old Subaru with over 100,000 miles on it that's overdue for an oil change. You have a no-nonsense haircut and wear sensible shoes. You haven't been able to find time to practice this week and it's killing you. You have nightly dreams of robbing a bank and retiring to Tijuana.
This was your mom's piano and it has sentimental value to you. It's out of tune. The sort of out of tune that brings to mind honky tonk old silent movies starring Charlie Chaplin. You always wanted to learn to play piano, and someday you will. Right after tax season ends. Or next tax season. Definitely after the one after that. Your favorite food is something fried, with cheese in it. You have seen every single episode of The Bachelor.
You are weird. Or a music historian. Or both. You practice for hours every single day, you absolute lunatic. You haven't seen the inside of a pub since Covid. You have memorized the Dewey Decimal system.
You bought this piano a decade ago when your kids were taking lessons, but they're grown now, and now nobody uses it unless you force them to. Which, now that you think about it wasn't unlike how it was used when your kids were taking lessons. Sometimes you open the fallboard and tinker around a bit. You can play chopsticks and heart and soul, and a little bit of that one Ed Sheeran song. You got your first letter from the AARP last week. You're beginning to enjoy gardening.
You are in your late twenties. You have two kids, and a third on the way. Your house is a perpetual FEMA disaster site. You found a peanut butter and jelly sandwich under the passenger seat of your minivan yesterday. A whole ass sandwich. Still in the plastic ziplock baggy. You recycle but you wish you didn't. You have a motorcycle in the garage gathering dust and cobwebs. Your 5 year old woke you up at 3AM last night by bringing you the family parakeet. You do not have a family parakeet.
You are trans. Your current favorite genre of music is something that ends in -core or -wave. You are in a polyamorous relationship with a demisexual non-binary person, their live in boyfriend, and his trans sister. You have never owned a vehicle. You own no less than 4 different pairs of Birkenstock sandals. You vote Democrat but only because there isn't a real candidate that's further left.
@Lana hey, she might be trans but she's in a polyamorous dating situations with a bisexual non-binary person, does own a car, and 4 pairs of boots instead of birkenstocks. So inaccurate, it's outrageous 😜
@azonenberg@Lana that's the alternative possibility for the first image. It's just that lawyers with lots of money and no musical talent far outnumber concert pianist
@http_error_418@Lana Exactly, so it'd probably look like absolute garbage full of dings and scratches because they bought it at a garage sale or something, but the innards are in mint shape.
At least, my mom is a (now semi retired) piano teacher and that's what hers is like. Sounds awesome, looks like it was found in a dumpster. Nicks and scratches in the wood, some paint chipping off parts of the black keys, but regularly maintained by a very good tuner and the guts are as good as the day it left the factory.
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