Is it possible for a trust fund baby and a poor kid to be real friends? Better yet, is it possible they can fall in love?
This is something I have been asking myself for a while now. You see, I have fallen pretty damn hard for someone from “the rich part of town.” I know, I know… this may not seem like such a bad thing. But trust me, it has its issues.
For instance:
Today we went shopping. It should have been a simple trip to a local department store to pick up a CD/DVD rack. But, as usual when the two of us attempt to shop together, it was anything but simple.
We spent almost an hour in that damn store looking at every possible thing that could be used to shelve his extensive media collection. We pored over aisle after aisle of shelving and cabinetry and the like. We discussed the finer points of everything from wood veneers to wire racks. We explored every single option we could.
Now here is where it got “sticky”. My friend is looking for a very specific item. He wants a media storage system that will both allow sorting and categorizing of his movies and music and express who he is to anyone who may visit. And he wants a way to do this in style. And THAT, my dear readers, is the hard part.
My friend was raised with all the finer things in life. He is the child of an architect and an artist, so he has a keen sense of what he deems to be appropriate to be included in his home. And all that is well and good with me. I too am an artist, and I too like stylish decor. I understand the need to find something both functional and attractive to add to your world. I get that our things are an expression of our selves. This I grasp one hundred and ten percent.
What I do not get is why someone would feel the need to throw a fit in a department store over how cheap and stylishly offensive an item they sell is. (Which is exactly what he did, btw.) I do not understand why a person would rage on and on and on about how said department store can’t produce anything but “mass market bullshit”. I can not fathom why a person would feel the need to be so upset about something so small in the grand scheme of things.
For fucks’ sake! If you go into a department store that is targetted toward discount shopping then you should expect to find items that are not one-of-a-kind designer originals. You should know that the items there are not going to be cutting-edge or overly trendy. You should realize that what they offer is only going to come in one or two colors, won’t be made of expensive materials and isn’t designed to become and heirloom piece in your private collection! Yet somehow, miraculousy, he does not get this.
Or maybe he does. I know he chose to shop in this particular store because he is trying to not spend a fortune furnishing his home. I know he went there thinking he would find something passable to use. I know he didn’t set out to offend me like he did.
But I am offended. Make no mistake about that. I am highly offended.
In my mind, when he went on his little tirade about how cheap and ugly and terrible everything was, he essentially said to me “Nothing you can afford will ever be good enough for me.” I am sure that wasn’t what he meant to say. As a matter of fact, I doubt that thought ever crossed his mind. But that sure is what I heard.
Which goes back to my original question. Can we make this work? Can he and I find a way to get past these little tiffs? Can he learn that when he spouts off about things like that he is stomping all over my poor little toes? Can I learn that he will never be satisfied with anything that didn’t cost more than a weeks worth of my salary? Can he figure out that even though we get what we pay for it may be all we can afford to pay for?
Perhaps it’s stupid or petty of me to be so upset about this. Maybe I should just let him blow his money however he sees fit. (Which I do btw… his money is his, and I would never dream of trying to tell him how to use it.) I just don’t know how to make him see that when he acts like that… when he says those things… that it makes me more hesitant than ever to invite him over to my place again.
I am afraid he will see that cheap little “mass market piece of bullshit” that I keep my movies in and he won’t love me anymore.
