Blue-Collar Frivolity

There are plenty of theme parks for the upper class. Of course there are. You have to be quite stupendously rich to know about them, with their existence hidden from the unwashed masses who don’t have money. Last year for my birthday I went to Crystal Land, which is a secret cave underneath the Simpson Desert where everything is made of high-quality crystals and diamonds, from the beds to the roller coasters. Such fun.

Caviar Island is… well, it’s an island hidden from peasants by whirlpools (I only know about it because I went there for a destination wedding) and now they’re opening up The Blue-Collar Experience deep inside a mountain. Such a fun concept! 

You learn all about where to buy aluminium ute canopies (of which there is a thriving industry), how to change a tyre (I shall forget immediately) and then you dress up like a common person and inhabit a little town where you can greet other extremely rich people who’ve decided to roleplay as the lower class. 

I myself have a distinct advantage, with my family’s connection to the aluminium ute toolbox industry within Melbourne. I know all sorts of juicy terms, like ‘half canopy’ and ‘4×4’ and ‘under tray drawers’. So I shall already have a head start upon my daily tasks. There will be Carlita Conchita Benita Paprika, stumbling around in overalls and trying to pretend that she’s a marine welding expert, and there’s me, knowing things. About toolboxes. And I shall laugh. Oh, how I shall laugh!

Maybe I’d do well to look up the ute trays for sale, Melbourne having a broad selection on offer, as I understand it. You know – really get a feel for the lingo. At the end of my time at The Blue-Collar Experience, I shall be crowned greatest blue-collar pretender of all time, receiving a golden crown to assure me that it was all pretend, thus confirming that it was all an act and I am still very, very rich. But also better than all the other rich people in attendance.

-Pondela Whimsy