My latest trip to Buckhead

I just love the rich people in Atlanta. Somewhere alone the way of evolution, rich people split off from the rest of us. As they evolved, they developed poor eyesight. Case in point: Three separate people today in Buckhead almost ran into me at three separate intersections. They were all in vehicles over $65,000.

Rich people developed a lower sense of social identification. Case in point: Just because I wear 501’s to an upscale office park, I am immediately assumed to be the cleaning crew. While washing my hands in the restroom, I decided to look at the mechanism that activates the water faucet automatically. You know me – very scientific. While looking under the facet and moving my hand under it, a man can up to me and asked if I knew anything about the hand dryer being out of order AND if I could fix it.

My answer was, of course,

“The screw drivers are in the maintenance shop in the basement. If you pass the drug screen test, you can start work tomorrow.” That shut him up.

Also, Atlanta’s rich housewives are bored. No wonder they have affairs. In the waiting area of a doctors office in Buckhead, (don’t ask why I was there), three ladies were chatting about each other’s “fashionable” medical problems. See, it’s apparently hip to have a fashionable medical condition.

–Names have been deleted to protect the guilty–

“You know, my friend (insert name) had (insert fashionable disease) and she decided to go and see Dr. (insert current M.D. in vogue). He’s over at the (insert upscale medical specialty clinic) clinic and just did wonders for her.”

“Oh really?”, said the second lady. “You know, I’ve been trying to get my daughter to consider breast augmentation with Dr. (insert plastic surgeon in vogue). He’s just great and there is no waiting at his office. See, (insert husband’s or lovers name) knows him from the club. They play golf on Wednesdays and (insert doctor’s wife or lovers name) and I normally have coffee on Thursdays at (insert very trendy make over salon). I’ll have to chat with her about all of it.î

It just went on and on and on…

If I were not a Vulcan and in control of my emotions, I would have looked over and said, “Ma’am, ya’ll ain’t got no chew or dip do ya? I’m all out of (insert fashionable country boy smokeless tobacco) and, golly, just about to have an attack!î

But, I remained calm and reserved…… In my 501’s…… I have found that shopping at Tiffany’s at Phipps Plaza in jeans is fashionable. See, if you’re so rich you don’t care about what you’re wearing, some people pick up on that too. It also helps if you say, flippantly in a medium loud voice, “why do you people keep this costume jewelry crap in these counters, can I pleeeease see something of value!”, that’ll get their attention.

Well, I went home to the Northwest Territories (Acworth) after my Atlanta trip and decided, I needed some emergency Bud Lite. The champagne at the spa was getting to me.

1 Comment so far

  1. Steve (unregistered) on September 29th, 2004 @ 12:48 am

    The least you could do is spell “Whores” correctly. Jeez.

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