An envisioning . . . 1936 and Monaco for the weekend.

Oh to be here.

Aerodrome and a new secret fiancé with a bag stuffed filled with money for the casino. Mother not knowing that part. Met at someone’s country house weekend and all titled up but a little off.

Not to marry exactly but fun. The other kind good at escorting ladies to Christmas pantomimes and fox hunting weekends with old lady relatives sitting around drinking tea talking about who had been the king’s mistress. Not this king with Mrs. Simpson. But the one a few back from before the war.

Maybe one should listen. Two saying they danced with him and might have some tips. But so boring. Bad knees making them do nothing but sit. That and remarks about ladies not riding sidesaddle because it made your legs look strange.

But fun. Baccarat and roulette. Maybe an introduction to the prince and back for the New Year’s Ball later.

Maybe not. Father liking the other gentleman better. Hard. A fun life but all on someone else’s money. Some things to get to decide but not most.

But this weekend, anyway. As long as the scale doesn’t go too high. Weigh everyone they do, and if the arrow goes too high you can’t get on. That or they rework the thing, make everyone move while you start looking around for a rock to go under.

But hopefully. Chairs side by side to sit in at least when the stewardess isn’t going back and forth . . . a weekend and then . a memory one way or the other. . . no way to know and who would want to.

Weighing in. ca. late 1920's.
Weighing in. ca. late 1920’s. Cigarette card. Collection of the New York Public Library. via http://www.formerdays.com/2014/11/flying-1920s-style.html
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