The Pro. How did I even end up sitting next to this prodigy?
The Show-Off. Please stop playing the Sibelius violin concerto in d minor. I get it. Everyone gets it.
The Whisperer. This is way more interesting than listening to the violas attempting to play louder!
The Snacker. Half of you wishes he would stop crunching, half of you wants him to share.
The Slacker. She never has a pencil. She already lost her music. You have to take on the role of the Responsible One (see number 21), otherwise you’ll both be dead. You’re kinda surprised that she remembered the concert was today. Oh look, she’s wearing black jeans instead of dress pants. “Yeah we sit in the back no sweat man no one will notice.”
The Crush. I actually practiced that tough passage.
The Jazz Musician. Probably knows what secondary dominants are and can sing and identify all the modes. I’m 5% annoyed and 95% secretly jealous of your mad skills.
The Best Friend. You write messages to each other on the back of the music so the conductor won’t know you’re chatting.
The Strong Silent Type. He never says anything and is really tall. You’re a little bit intimidated and too scared to talk to him.
The Phone Addict. If you don’t stop playing Crossy Road, you’ll be flatter than that chicken.
The Comedian. You wish you had something witty and clever to say back.
The Klutz. She has a lot of nicks on her instrument, and her shoulder rest is always falling off. Somehow she sent your pencil flying into the void, and she knocked all of the music off the stand. Last week she nearly stabbed your eye out.
The Violist. Plays so terrible, basically a violist. Also known as the Airbower. (Just kidding, I am a violist!)
The Artist. All of your music is covered in doodles now. You’re pretty sure you even saw a blender scribbled in somewhere…
The Restless One. Taps foot. Scratches head. Jiggles knee so hard that the stand shakes and your beloved mechanical pencil bumbles its way off the stand and falls to its death.
The Snoozer. Should you wake her up, or just let her get what she deserves?
The Persnickety One. He insists on marking in everything himself. He requires you to fold the edge of the page a certain way. The stand has to be just the right height and turned just the right way so there is equal viewing space.
The Pluckety One. STOP PLUCKING ALREADY HOW MANY GLARES FROM THE CONDUCTOR WILL IT TAKE.
The Cello Wannabe. He’s always turning his instrument upside-down and playing it like a cello. Just switch already.
The Turtle/Hunchback. My back aches from watching you.
The Responsible One. Your hero. He always has a pencil, always taped his music, knows what measure to start on, and he lends you his rosin, extra mute, and nail clippers.
The One Who Can’t Turn Pages. She accidentally ripped your music too.
The One Who’s Always Late. On the bright side, you get the whole stand to yourself.
The One Who’s Always Tuning. Also known as the last one to finish tuning. Re-tunes every other rehearsal number.
The One With Bad Handwriting and Can’t Spell. Did you write “energy” or “enmeyy”? Does that say “pesante” or “peasant”? How does one play like a peasant?
The One Who Plays Out of Tune. And then everyone turns around to stare at you both after your stand partner finishes on something in between an F and an F# instead of an E, and you want nothing more than to protest your innocence. But it’s too late. Everyone already turned back around again. Your reputation has been established. Now you have to move to a new country.