🥂 How It’s Hard to Blend In

—a memoir from someone who just wanted lounge access, not class warfare

Look, I didn’t ask for this life.

I just wanted to collect points, sip free lattes in airport lounges, and feel something. But now every time I pull out my Amex Platinum, it’s like I just slapped a peasant across the face with a velvet glove and whispered, “Know your place.”

💳 Step 1: The Metal Card of Judgment

All I did was buy my sad little $4 oat milk latte, okay?

But the moment that silver brick of silent financial shame hits the counter—CLINK—everyone turns like I just dropped a Rolex into the tip jar.

> “Ohhh, excuse me, big spender!”

> “Daaamn, what do you do again?”

> “We gettin’ money, huh?”

No, I just like airport lounges and not dying when my flight gets delayed. Let me live.

Also, the Uber credits barely cover one ride, and Saks Fifth Avenue sent me a rejection email when I tried to buy socks.

This card is a toxic situationship: high maintenance, gives nothing back emotionally, but somehow I can’t quit it.

👀 Step 2: You Can’t Complain Anymore

The moment people think you have money—real or imaginary—you lose all rights to express human suffering.

You say you’re burned out?

> “Must be nice. I wish I had your kind of stress.”

You say your back hurts?

> “Well maybe if I had that ergonomic Herman Miller chair you use.”

You say you’re broke?

> “You got a card made of METAL. Don’t play with us.”

It’s like the world decided financial struggle doesn’t exist **if your wallet clicks when it closes**.

🧥 Step 3: Dress Poor or Be Judged

If I wear something nice to work—even if it’s from the Zara clearance rack—suddenly I’m giving trust fund energy.”

So now I wear hoodies I don’t even like, shoes that look like they survived the Great Depression, and drink gas station coffee just to look “grounded.”

Meanwhile Chad from sales has never ironed a shirt in his life, and he gets “relatable king” energy.

👄 Step 4: Literally Everything You Say Sounds Like a Brag

You: “I used my points to fly to Atlanta.”

Them: “Oh okay, travel queen! We see you!”

You: “I rescheduled therapy to make the team meeting.”

Them: silently adds 'goes to therapy' to list of reasons you’re ‘not like us’

You: “I’ve been budgeting lately.”

Them: eye twitch “Budgeting? With THAT card?”

It doesn’t matter what you say. Once you give them *platinum energy*, it’s over. Your struggle is now invalid.

🫠 Step 5: You're Not Even Rich

Here’s the kicker.

You’re not rich. You’re just a functional broke adult who understands the perks-to-pain ratio.

You use points to breathe. You haven’t paid full price for a flight in years. You got the Amex Plat for **survival**, not status.

But do they care?

No.

You’re the “bougie one.” Forever.

Even if your lunch is leftovers in a reused candle jar and your car won’t reverse unless you bless it first.

✨ Final Thought

Blending in with peasants isn’t about pretending to be poor.

It’s about not triggering class rage by accident.

So go ahead:

- Swipe that Platinum.

- Order that lounge cappuccino.

- Wear your coat that people think costs $900 but was actually $42.99 on final clearance.

Just be prepared for the eye rolls.

And remember:

It’s not about what you have; it’s about how offended people are by the way you carry it.