What the Rich Think About the Poor

It Strikes Me as Odd — A Fable

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Once upon a time in a place called Nowhere during the era of Ubiquity there were two women having tea and scones in an elegant and dainty café.

“It strikes me as odd that the color of money is green,” Aye Whole said as she put a piece of scone in her mouth.

“I think it would be much prettier if it were rainbow-colored don’t you?” said her friend Fallow Weir.

“No. As someone who has a lot of money, I can without a doubt say that money would be much more pleasantly held in my hand if it were a different color. Say the color of gold for the rich and brown for the poor.”

“Why brown for the poor?” Fallow asked stirring her tea.

“Because brown is the color of excrement,” replied Aye. “And everything the poor touches turns into excrement. And it should be gold for the rich because we have the Midas touch when it comes to making them.”

“But brown is such a plain and ugly color. What about white then?” replied Fallow.

“Oh that wouldn’t do at all. White is too pure. And money is not pure since some of the poor must have to hold a little of it too. It would be different if money were restricted to people with a lot of money such as myself and even you.”

Fallow stopped stirring and replied, “Oh. And just how much money do you have?”

“Well I come from money. I always have money. My house costs a lot of money and everything I wear costs a lot of money.”

“Oh, you are made of money aren’t you Aye.”

“Why I certainly am. And do you know what else that makes me?”

“Oh please tell me. You know how much I rely on your guidance to show me the way.”

People with money generally know more and do less.”

“Why is that?” asked Fallow with perplexity.

“Because money will not allow us to do anything else. Spending money is all we have time for. On the other hand, the poor must always do more so they can be less poor and if they rest even just a tiny bit, well they become even more poor.” Aye pointed her finger at a young boy who had just finished cleaning a table and carrying a tray of dirty dishes away. “See what I mean? They struggle and sweat for a pittance.”

“But that is an awful fate Aye. I am glad that we are not poor.”

“Oh definitely not! But do remember that there is a hierarchy within the rich as well.”

“Oh?” said Fallow for she had not heard of this before.

“Your family is very rich, which makes you very rich. But my family is richer and that makes me richer. So, it would not be odd for me to say that I am better than you in that respect. There are shades of gray even with the rich.”

Fallow took stock of this information. Suddenly the status of being rich was not as clearly defined and if indeed there were shades of gray, then she Fallow Weir was of the lower shade. “Well what about Clara Upancoming?” said Fallow. “She was once poor and now she is quickly having lots and lots of money and perhaps doing lots and lots less. Just like us. Why if she keeps doing nothing the way she does, she might soon surpass your money!”

Aye shook her head. “Someone like Clara Upancoming will never be better than me because people like me who originate from money and have done nothing to earn our money will always be better than those who have to work for it. In fact we should make it a point to show them our superiority because people need to learn their place in life.”

The chime of the café door rang. The women saw Clara Upancoming enter wearing an elegant outfit.

“Oh my. Look at her transformation,” said Fallow in amazement. “She looks very well rested indeed and her clothes look very expensive. And look Aye she has that purse you had your eye on last week.”

Aye haughtily tilted her head so high that her nostrils faced the ceiling.

Clara walked to their table and said, “Hello ladies.  I am looking for volunteers at the soup kitchen on Homeless Road. What are you doing a week from today?”

Before Fallow could respond Aye said, “We are busy doing absolutely nothing. So, we will not be there.”

Disappointed but not surprised at Aye’s reaction Clara merely nodded her head. “That’s a shame. We could really use your help. If something changes you let me know. Now if you’ll excuse me ladies.”

Aye eyed with resentment the purse hanging on Clara’s arm as the woman walked away for someone like her did not deserve to have something so smart, beautiful and elegant.

“I think it would be interesting to go to Homeless Road. I’ve never been there and it might be fun to serve others,” Fallow said in a stern whisper.

“Fallow, the truly rich do not go to Homeless Road to serve the have-nots. Clara cannot transform herself to act like the truly rich because she will always be truly poor, which is why she is compelled to go there. What is inside us is what counts. And inside me is richery and refinement, I don’t know about you,” said Aye in a challenging tone she often took when she wanted someone to agree with her. “People can never really change their station in life or who they are inside. It all eventually comes out. The dirty poor will always be dirty, which is what Clara is.”

Fallow looked down in defeat and continued stirring her tea.

Aye relaxed on her seat, but her sense of victory was cut short by a sudden cold breeze that passed through her. Her skin tingled in such an uncanny way. And try as she did to keep her composure, her nose began to twitch. Then she felt the climb of a sneeze.

“Awhchew,” Aye’s nose exclaimed and her napkin mercifully caught a murky, greenish ooze peppered by what looked like bits of birdseed. Aye’s eyes widened. She quickly wiped her nose with a napkin thankful that Fallow, who was still looking down on her tea, did not see the yuck and muck that came out of her.

But Fallow did hear the sneeze. “Are you getting sick Aye? You suddenly don’t look so well.”

“It’s all that Clara’s fault. Haven’t I told you that I’m allergic to people like her?” Aye shrugged off the incident and took a bite of her scone. She tasted something bitter and sour. But Aye continued to chew, for it was uncouth to spit out what one had put in their mouth no matter how deplorable it tasted.

“Aye! My goodness what have you got in your mouth?” Fallow exclaimed immediately covering her nose with a napkin. When Aye spoke, the odor grew stronger causing Fallow to move away from their table. Fallow realized that what Aye had in her mouth was not a lemon scone, but something more likely to come out the “other end” after one has engorged themselves. “Aye,” said Fallow, “why you’ve got poop in your mouth.”

“I’ve got what?” Aye spat the half masticated paste on her plate. She suspiciously picked up one of the lemon scones and it immediately turned into a brown smelly clump. She picked up another and another and each scone turned into crap at the touch of her hand. Soon there were a basket full of pooh on her table. The stench reached the rest of the patrons and a wild chorus of “oohs”, and “that stinks” and “get that smell out of here” brought out the café manager. He followed the stench toward a well dressed woman who looked like she had “diarrhea of the mouth.” The disgusted patrons stood up from their seats. Fallow herself now stood beside Clara, who looked on curiously at Aye.

The manager knew this was bad for business. “We don’t allow your dirty kind here. You belong on Stenchman Avenue.”

“I most certainly do not! This is not my fault. Your food is disgusting. This is your fault.” screamed Aye with tid-bits of pooh still stuck on her teeth.

“Impossible,” he said. “We serve nothing but things that taste and smell good. You’re the only one here with excrement in her mouth. You do not belong here you smelly heathen. Now get out.” So he grabbed an umbrella hanging from a coat rack and with the skill of a swordsman, he wielded the umbrella on Aye. “Get out, get out, get out,” he said as he poked Aya toward the door. Aye clutched her stomach and used her other arm to protect herself from his assaults, but the barrage continued until she reached the door.

“Help me Fallow,” Aye pleaded. “Help me. There’s been a mistake,” she said to the crowd. “I’m rich. I have good hygiene. I always smell good. This is not happening …”

With Aye finally gone, the patrons gave the manager a round of applause.

“It’s a crime that someone like her could get into a place like this,” said a plump woman wearing a diamond tiara. The crowd collectively nodded their rich heads in agreement as they settled back into their seats.

“It strikes me as odd that someone of Aye Whole’s money and social status could suddenly transform into a – well — into a shit monger,” said Fallow.

With a look of pity and insight Clara replied, “Not that odd.”

And Aye Whole lived miserably ever after on Poor Woman’s Alley.

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© 2011 Lafemmeroar

About Lafemmeroar
Writer, blogger, humorist. Visit my blog to know more :)) Laughing at the malfunction of the universe is better than crying about it.

24 Responses to What the Rich Think About the Poor

  1. Everyone knows that poor people are the cause of poverty in this country.

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      Lack of education, opportunity, and information are terrible circumstances many people face. I wrote this because a woman I don’t like said “It strikes me as odd …,” then she went on about how rich her family is. She didn’t have any poop in her mouth that day, but I believe everything she said that day was full of crap.

      • Ah, you did not catch my humor this time. The comment is obviously ludicrous and plain stupid and meant as a satire on those who look down their noses at others because of their wealth based sense of superiority.

        • Lafemmeroar says:

          I’ve got my catcher’s mitt on and I finally caught it! 🙂 Luv ya Carl 🙂

  2. Wealth rarely makes us better and often makes us worse. Years ago, my husband and I went to a wedding (I think we were the token non-millionaires) where the guests were rolling up in cars worth more than our house. The women wore oversized diamonds and actually talked about how much their gowns cost. I don’t think they had a clue that my husband and I spent most of the evening making fun of them. At the end of the evening, the the bride’s father told the guests to take the centerpieces as a gift. We found out later that they not only took the centerpieces but stripped the ballroom of thousand’s of dollars worth of rented potted plants and statues.

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      lol … see the rich are looters too!

  3. viv says:

    This is funny! “It strikes me as odd”..this is a statement I will most certainly use ALOT this week 😀

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      Glad to entertain you on a dreary Monday Viv! 🙂

      • viv says:

        It’s a Tuesday in my Country, 9.45am. This has made my morning 🙂

        • Lafemmeroar says:

          Aww…. I’m glad then 🙂 Regardless of the time zone … we’re connected through blogging 🙂

  4. ericmvogt says:

    Love your poopy parody, noodles. Being a Shakespeare lover, I am sure you remember his famous quote about the rich, “Beware the Ides of Madolf…” Noe that’s a man who needs some poop shoved in his mouth and a rod shoved up his poop chute. Pardon my French.

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      Is that from Julius Ceasar? Thought it was March … anywho, it’s early and your comments always give me a chuckles and makes me go hmmm……. 🙂

  5. My money isn’t wanted here, I can see that now.
    Plastic Canadian money isn’t like Monopoly money… Sadly.

    Thanks for the edu-tainment, this story had a lot of shit to say.

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      I like “edu-tainment” oh this story is definite full of shit! 🙂 lol

  6. The Hook says:

    I wish i was rich enough to buy you a car to thank you for the enjoyment reading this post has given me… But I’m not.. So I won’t.

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      All I need is your comment and that’s enough for me 🙂 I’m a crazy chick, but I ain’t a greedy chick 🙂 You’re so sweet though 🙂

  7. lexiesnana says:

    grinning from ear to ear

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      Now your comment made me 🙂

  8. Cinnamon says:

    I’ve found that the only thing that money can’t buy is Poverty. And through my use of credit cards, I’ve also discovered that you can’t buy love, but you can damn sure rent it for a while. Thanks LaFemme

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      Lol on renting! You are funny Cinnamon 🙂 Love your comment!

  9. Phil Gayle_For Singles and Couples says:

    You know the scary thing about it is…some of the Rich actually still think this way today.
    Here in the UK they have the terms ‘Old Money’ and ‘New Money’ with an ‘implication’ that Old money (handed down from previous generations) is full of class and New money (usually won or self-made) has a distinct lack of class.

    And as we’ve all seen, class isn’t based on money and happiness and sadness affects us all whether we are rich or poor.
    Great post honey.

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      I’m so glad you got the post! 🙂 I actually wrote that ’cause some beeeaaatch once began a conversation with “It strikes me as odd” and that was the original title of the story, but I changed it. And class definitely isn’t based on money … stink will always be stink … know what I mean? Thank you for this comment 🙂

  10. RICH buys you freedom.

    I’d like some more freedom. Xxxx

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      I want more freedom too! 🙂

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