Hoi Polloi «ORIGINAL — Tutorial»

Later that night, Arthur’s car broke down on a desolate stretch of road far from the shimmering lights of the ballroom. As he stood by his smoking engine, a rusted truck pulled over. Out stepped a man in grease-stained overalls—one of the very people Arthur had looked down upon just hours before.

"Need a hand, friend?" the man asked, his voice rough but kind. hoi polloi

For the first time, Arthur didn't see a member of the masses. He saw a person. As he sat in the cab of the truck, listening to the man talk about his kids and his garden, the term felt heavy and ridiculous in Arthur's mind. He realize that while he had been looking into the masses from his high perch, he had never truly seen them at all. Meeting 'the Hoi Polloi' Head On - Los Angeles Times Later that night, Arthur’s car broke down on