Pulling into the exit lane a gleaming white sedan approaches from behind. Not just any sedan it’s a white Mercedes with tan leather interior. The palest of ash blonde in a below the chin classic bob. Oversized Jackie O. sunglasses. Black and white horizontal striped sleeveless top with a tan colored sweater over her shoulders. A manicured hand with a blinding diamond ring casts a faceted reflective glare. Raising it up to her lips she takes a long drag from her thin feminine 120 cigarette. Leaning toward the window and staring up at the sky for a moment she lets out a puff of smoke. She begins speaking into her phone.
“Liza honey I’m pullin’ in to that bed and bath place, did you want white sheets in yours and Pierce’s bedroom? Oh well if he wets the bed then I say cream. We just got off the tennis cawts and I’m meetin’ the gals for lunch at McGuires. Oh no I won’t see him till latah...he’s playin’ golf with...He did? That’s just mawvalous tell him MiMi has a special prize for him then. O.K. hon I’ll call ya latah I’m meetin’ my decaratah at Seaside...it all sounds so good...it’ll look jus like a magazine. Oh no we’ll be on a cruise in Mawch so tell‘em we cain’t possibly be they’ah...Bye now.”
The light turns green and she speeds away toward her destination. Secure in the thought that she’s rich. Bad things simply don’t happen to people who are rich. A certain satisfaction is gleaned from knowing that others around her hate her. What’s the point if you don’t experience large doses of envy. It’s a perfect life.