It is not in a catalog.
There are no salespeople peddling it as a unique product.
No matter how many times I scour through Amazon, I have yet to see an entry trying to sell me class.
It is not for sale. It is not an item up for purchase and certainly it will not reach anyone tax free, with two-day shipping through Prime.
Class sits on the locked shelf of decorum, in the aisle of behavior, and the items contained here are not labeled with a price.
Interestingly enough, while class can be acquired, it cannot be bought. The currency of integrity is not allotted to all and sometimes the exchange rate on decency leaves many with a marked shortfall on etiquette.
Class doesn’t require a class to master. Class merely means to act appropriately when given the opportunity to exchange a moment of kindness with another.
Kindness breeds acceptable behavior and that transcends any rule reinforced by Miss Manners.
Anyone who offers a moment of positivity toward another will always exhibit and exude class. Actions coming from a place of good, absent of malice, will definitely have their place in the realm of character. And in this pantry of reasoning, where the benevolence of spirit is shared and unselfishly distributed, herein lies the ownership of class.
The inverse of this situation is the moment of deliberate, calculated action where ugly is spread in an instant, like butter on bread, throwing all decorum out the window and leaving the offender nakedly cloaked in the veil of refined, repugnant comportment. Simply said, class, like the baby, has been thrown out with the bathwater. Once class is lost, there is no getting it back.
Some, however, cannot help themselves. In their quest to be their most authentic selves and live their best life by defending their rights, they replace the components of standard propriety with a selfishness they misguidedly confuse as a virtue.
Once served, this supposed virtue is nothing but an abundant dish, a healthy helping of lack of class.