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Martha's Vineyard is so posh that even the sand has its own butler. I asked him for a beach chair, and he gave me a disapproving stare.
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You ever notice how Martha's Vineyard sounds like the fanciest salad dressing you could ever have? "Oh, I'll have the Martha's Vineyard vinaigrette, please. Extra bourgeoisie on the side!
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Visiting Martha's Vineyard is like stepping into an episode of a reality show called "Island Cribs." "Here's my humble little summer cottage, only 15 rooms and three tennis courts. No big deal.
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I stayed in a quaint bed and breakfast in Martha's Vineyard. The breakfast was so charming; they served eggs with a side of whispered conversations about stock portfolios.
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Martha's Vineyard is like the VIP section of islands. You need an invitation just to get there. It's like, "Excuse me, sir, do you have a reservation for this beach towel?
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In Martha's Vineyard, even the seagulls have a sense of entitlement. I threw a piece of bread, and one of them looked at me like, "Excuse me, do you have any gluten-free options?
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I tried to blend in with the Martha's Vineyard crowd by sipping my drink with pinky extended. Little did I know, they were all drinking iced chai lattes, and my coffee looked like a rebel in a sea of sophistication.
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They say Martha's Vineyard is exclusive, but honestly, I felt like I was on a scavenger hunt just to find the public restroom. It's like the island's way of testing your commitment to luxury.
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I recently went to Martha's Vineyard, and let me tell you, the only vines I saw were the ones on the rich people's pergolas. I was expecting a grape-stomping party, but all I got was a stern look from the gardener.
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