High End

Every year my life coach, Ellen, sits down with me and helps me whittle down my list of friends. I'm not a snob, but do have expectations of these people, who must qualify as high end friends.
Right off, we eliminated Harry and his Velcro painting of Hillary Clinton. Louise's earrings were too ostentatious--out. Marge we kept because finally removed that Neil Diamond tattoo from her shoulder. The Fanucci twins were problematic. They voted Republican, but had a 36 D cup. We kept them.
Al was kind to me all year, yet his connection to Tupperware forced me to toss him out. I want my friends to be both accomplished and edgy. Like Augie, who claimed to have invented the Frisbee and rode around on a bike wearing a Batman costume.
Truthfully, I have only one Superhero as a friend--Elastic Man. But like rubber bands, his elasticity decreased over time to the point where his left arm just snapped off while battling an evil villain. Ellen said he had to go and I agreed.
So it went for two hours. At the very bottom of the list was Ellen's husband Steve. Certainly Steve stays on, I said. Ellen frowned. It pains me to inform you that Steve has removed you from his high end list, she said. He feels you did nothing interesting all year.
I sat there in shock. I realized he was right. I needed to get myself a nose ring. It's a start.