Rich People Are Funny

Here's a picture of the lobby at Litchfield By The Sea. It's teddibly, teddibly fancy. Something about being around the haughty rich brings out the comedian in me, I guess.

One night we all went into the lobby so the Hubs and I could get a Starbucks fix and I could wait to try to get on one of the Inn's two public computers. We lounged in comfort on the palatial furniture when I felt the spirit come over me.

Me: Hey, let's pretend that we're rich like the rest of these snots around here and living in a penthouse on Park Avenue! Oh Fathah...(spoken in atrocious fake English accent)...How was Wall Street today? Make a million?
Roger: No, darling. Millions.
Me: Oh, splendid!! Fathah, don't you simply adore what the decorator did with the place?
Roger: No, darling. That ***** pelican has got to go. Sell it on Ebay or something.
Me: Fathah, no!! I will simply call the curator at Sotheby's and have her sell it at the upcoming charity auction!
Roger: That will be splendid, dear.
Me: Oh Fathah......I see that Brookie and Tiffany are getting a tad..um...rambunctious! (By this time the girls were squirming in boredom). Please ring for the nanny. Oh Mary! Mary Poppins! Do take the children to the children's wing and tuck them into their beddies.
Roger: Darling, let us retire to our wing. The hour, it grows late.
Me: Wouldn't it be nice if we could take our Christmas picture in a nice place like this? Hey, I've got it! Let's go ahead and shoot NEXT YEAR'S Christmas picture here! I'll just Photoshop in some more wrinkles and gray hair...
Roger: Darling, please come along quietly before they realize you've escaped from That Place.

Yes, we are poor and declasse, but we do amuse ourselves.