After 34 years, I've accepted the fact that I'm not chic. Most of my clothes come from Target and JCPenney. I drive a 5 year old minivan that I refer to as the Pigmobile. My house is not fancy. And I like life that way.
However, today I flew First Class and I felt like one of the People-- you know what I mean-- the ones you see on t.v. who own real Prada purses (not the knock-offs the rest of us buy at Ross.)
The seats are huge.
They offered me so many drinks that I ALMOST had to break my no-peeing-on-planes rule.
They brought me a damp warm little towel-- what do I do with this thing?
I got a nice meal with real silverware. I got off the plane first.
They let us in the Crown Room for our layover (which is where I am now.) There are little foods like biscotti and slices of white cheddar cheese.
This is all kinds of fun, but I confess-- I feel like an imposter. I look around and don't see many people who look like they clean their own toilets or shop at Target.
Too bad for them, I say. I like those things. Well, maybe not the toilet part. But it is a great time to be the "other half" for a weekend!
No comments:
Post a Comment