So High Class

So, High Class Torn by internal conflict I paint on a darling smile Put on my neatly creased suit, In their eyes, this is me. A patron of the country club savoring filet mignon and a fine Bordeaux. “I got the check,” I say; As I dip my manicured hands deep within a sea of freshly pressed plastic. “Why thank you, Sir" and “Dinner was just fabulous.” I return to my over priced Lincoln and begin to drive off with a confident wave but my smile begins to smear. I loosen my shirt and murmur a sigh of utter relief.