Some time ago, Malison, her boyfriend, and another friend, Cake Mix and I were renovating a mansion. I was absolutely flabbergasted that there was a room off the kitchen that was fitted with a sink, a mini-fridge, and plenty of cupboard and counter space. Basically, it was a little kitchen attached to the big kitchen. And you know what, I don't get it. What's it for? And the boyfriend tried to explain, but I turned to Cake Mix and said "I don't understand the ways of the rich." This became one of our taglines.
It is in this spirit that we just had this conversation:
Me: This whole "working" thing is a huge strain on my schedule.
Cake Mix: I know. We really need to buy lottery tickets! Or find a sugar daddy. Lottery probably easier. I'm to old for a sugar daddy...you're definitely still in the running. (PS. She's not that old AND she's beautiful.)
Me: Every time I hear the phrase "sugar daddy," I think about the episode of Sex and the City where Samantha slept with an old, rich dude and he had a saggy bum.
Cake: You can't have it all. Firm butt or millions? If you choose the firm butt instead of money, eventually he will have a saggy bottom too...and you will still be broke.
Me: Fine. I guess he could pay for butt implants if it's something I couldn't live with.
Cake: Now you are thinking. I could be your gardener and bathtub filler-upper.
Me: Why? Aren't you planning to be rich too? Can't we just go to luncheons and shop for tiaras together?
Cake: You marry rich then "hire" me to do ridiculous things. But we still will go tiara shopping.
Me: I don't think that is an activity you can do alone. What if the one you get doesn't suit your head shape? You need a friend there to be truthful before you show up at the gala in an ill-fitting tiara.
Cake: An ill-fitting tiara is a disaster.
I guess we understand the ways of the rich better than we thought.