I popped into the the upstate general store for an ice coffee on the way home. As I walked out, I saw a brand new black Lincoln Towncar pull into the far end of the parking lot. An older gentleman stepped out. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and even in the fading sunlight I caught a glimpse of the Rolex on his wrist. He had an air of distinction about him, and the smug look that monied people have had a lifetime to perfect.
He walked away from the store and stepped behind a tree where he proceeded to whip himself out and began to piss all over the base of the tree. Then I realized that even with all his money and sophistication, that he’s not better than me. A lifetime of breeding is no match for a full bladder. I then came to the realization that I had something on him. I’m not rich, but he was doing something that I would never get caught doing. For all of my wild years and skirting the law, I had more class than him.
You see, I pissed behind the other tree, farther away from the highway where nobody would see me.
Rich guys. Who do they think they are?