The Social Climber's Bible: A Book of Manners, Practical Tips, and Spiritual Advice forthe Upwardly Mobile (10 page)

A
s the novice social climber who begins to attend more elaborate and sophisticated social functions, more will be expected of you as a guest than was required at the basic cocktail party. Those rudimentary hit-and-run guerrilla tactics that got you through your first drinks party as a Mountaineer will not be enough to guarantee success at many of the social events you will soon be invited to.

It’s okay to get out of an unpromising conversation at a cocktail party with that time-honored excuse, “I have to freshen my drink,” but if you use that excuse too often people really will begin to think you have a drinking problem, even if you didn’t meet them at one of those AA meetings we told you to go to when you first came to town.

Crass but true, the trajectory of a social climber’s ascent is determined by both the quantity and quality of the invitations he or she receives. In other words, you have to be popular, well-liked, and sought-after in spite of the fact you have far less to
offer than your host or hostess surmises. Fool them but never yourself. Whether a social climber lives la dolce vita or dies alone depends on likability.

What’s more, to truly make your dreams come true, you have to be popular, well-liked, and sought-after not just for a night or a month or even a year; you have to prove your fabulousness 24/7/365 throughout the course of your whole life.

Yes, that’s a daunting task, but only if you look at it as a task—envision it as your manifest destiny and it becomes a privilege.

While the priest sells faith and some might say superstition, you are selling something real, tangible, something you care about deeply and genuinely believe in—yourself.

For the Mountaineer, being a great guest involves more than simply self-confidence and having great manners. It means learning how to make yourself an asset to any and every social function you attend. You must deport yourself in a way that makes you as essential an ingredient to the party’s success as the choice of caterer, or the regiftability of the items in the goodie
bag. In short, your host or hostess must be able to count on you to add to the fun of the fete, even when you don’t feel fun or their idea of fun is so unbearable, you’d prefer to be sitting in a dentist’s chair getting a root canal.

Note: The rules are different if you are a social climbing Big Fish and are in a position to reciprocate, quid pro quo, with lavish star-studded soirees of your own. For those lucky enough to belong in that tax bracket, a different set of rules apply, which will be covered later. For now, suffice to say the rule of thumb is, the more power/money/fame you possess, the more tolerant polite society will be of sulky, boorish, and out-and-out rude behavior.

Is such a double standard fair? Of course not, but when one embraces a life dedicated to upward mobility, one accepts the innate hypocrisy of the twenty-first-century class system. Why? Because it gives the social climber the moral high ground.

Since we do not make the rules, we can feel righteous when
we bend them for personal gain. The trick is to make the most out of Big Fish hospitality without your host or hostess feeling used.

Often being a great guest means that you have to pretend that you are a better person than you are. Fortunately, a little goes a long way.

And most important of all, always bring a present. Since you don’t have enough money to buy them something they really want, make them something. The hand-crafted gift, the present that shows an investment of what is really precious, your time, will mean the most. Naturally, because of your active social life, you do not have time to waste actually making something handcrafted. We suggest you buy a dozen jelly jars and the paraffin used to seal them—the kind used by foodies who put up preserves. Then, purchase a dozen jars of Smuckers raspberry preserves on sale at Costco. . . . Hand print a label, draw a heart on it, give it to your host or hostess as you walk in the door, tell them you made it according to your grandmother’s treasured recipe, and you’ve set the stage for success.

That will get you in the door and on the right foot, but to cement your place in their hearts, you must learn to master your
emotions and facial expressions so that you can seem genuinely happy when you are trapped in a conversation with your hosts’ senile parents, even if they are incontinent and hit on you when they call you into the bathroom for help.

Your joie de vivre must never seem calculated. When you volunteer to waste thirty minutes reading a bedtime story to your host’s or hostess’s six-year-old even though you know he’s infested with head lice, your ersatz kindness must seem absolutely sincere and spontaneous. Why? Because then, your host or hostess will feel guilty for taking advantage of you. And the smart social climber knows it is infinitely easier to make maximum use of Big Fish when they are operating under the misperception that they are using you.

That said, it is also important to remember that though you might have partially if not totally misrepresented who and what you are to have gotten invited to the party, you should never think of yourself as a con artist. Instead, imagine yourself as a cat burglar. When you slip away at the end of any event, however grand or humble (not too humble, one hopes), your host or hostess should never suspect that you have left the party with more than you had when you arrived.

Rest assured, every great guest is a good social climber. How can we say that with such certainty? Because being a great guest is too much work to do it for any other reason. And in America, we don’t work for free.

Being entertaining doesn’t mean that you always have to sing for your supper (though having a bell-like soprano or a classically trained baritone will make you popular at Christmas
caroling parties); it does mean your host or hostess can count on you to be charming in the most difficult circumstances.

The great guest/social climber is not the star of the show, nor should you want to be. Leave that role to be played by your host or hostess, or the Big Fish guest of honor. Like a good character actor’s, your performance will be judged by your ability to make the headliners of the show look good. Your job is to cover up their faux pas, bungled jokes, and any and all embarrassing performances at the party.

Yes, your host or hostess will appreciate your feigned eagerness to chat up sulky children and senile relatives who are off their meds and refuse to stay locked in their rooms. But what will really put your host or hostess in your debt, i.e., empower you and make you the toast of the town, is to become that rare guest who can be counted on to make polite conversation with anyone and everyone, but most especially with that subspecies of difficult guest—individuals we like to refer to as Wild Boar.

As invasive as kudzu, Wild Boar are, sadly, as much a part of the modern social food chain as Swans, Turtles, Big Fish, and Whales. As unpredictable and savage as his namesake, the Wild Boar’s instinctive knack for gutting the fun out of any social
gathering in a matter of minutes makes him every Big Fish host’s or hostess’s nightmare, which in turn makes him the great guest’s nightmare.

Most, but not all, Wild Boar are Big Fish who morphed into feral swine due to either too much success too soon or not enough too late. Often, but not always, their success makes them think they are blessed with a great sense of humor; they will take perverse pleasure in flexing their clout and insisting on telling jokes designed to offend everyone in the room, including the dog. Many owe their initial Big Fish success to highly developed math, science, or computer skills that they insist on droning on about, especially if they sense you’re not sufficiently impressed. These passive-aggressive techno-nerds with cheese-colored teeth often speak softly only to trick you into leaning close so they can paralyze you with an eyelash-curling blast of halitosis.

Wild Boar come in all shapes and sizes, but the most difficult are those who are so drunk, demented, drugged, and/or powerful they don’t feel obliged to include nouns or verbs in their sentences but have to be shown a good time because they hold sway over their host’s social position, inheritance, or child’s college acceptance.

How does a social climber make polite conversation with bores, fools, and/or French people, especially if you don’t speak French?

We call our patent-pending method of surefire shortcuts to eloquence the Rick James Method of Intelligent Small Talk, in honor of the much-maligned pioneering practitioner of the technique.

Yes,
that
Rick James, the late, great master of funk who gave the world such classics as “Super Freak” and “Give It to Me Baby.”
The Social Climber’s Bible
’s method of conversation was inspired by Mr. James’s ability to carry on polite conversation from dusk to dawn with a dozen different individuals from all walks of life by responding to any and everything that was said to him with the same four-word phrase.

Impossible, you say? Well, here are a few examples of how it worked or, rather, how we were told Mr. James masterfully worked it.

When a record executive broached the subject of dinner, “Is anyone else hungry?” Mr. James responded, “And you
know
that.”

Later, when asked, “Should we get some more blow?” Mr. James’s response? “And you
know
that.”

During dinner, when someone queried, “Is that bitch a really hot chick or a really cute guy?” Mr. James’s answer? “And you
know
that.”

When politics came up in the conversation and a member of his entourage demanded, “Are you gonna sit there and let Reaganomics screw the poor, or are you going to stand up and fucking do something?” Mr. James’s response was a sage: “And you
know
that.”

In these examples, you can see how Mr. James deftly avoided committing to being for or against anything by always answering with “And you
know
that.” He left it up to the people who were
doing the talking to determine whether he agreed with them. For the social climber who wants to reap the benefits of becoming a great guest, the task of making polite conversation is twice as complicated as it was for Mr. James. Why? Because you not only have to say nothing that could offend a Big Fish whose politics, tastes, and/or prejudices you know nothing about, you, unlike Rick, also have to sound intelligent and sober while saying nothing that could in any way offend.

Even the veteran social climber knows that trapped, bee-drowning-in-honey feeling that comes when the Big Fish you’re trying to impress makes a statement that demands a response, but you have no idea what you should say, or even could say, to keep up your half of the conversation without risk of putting your foot in your mouth.

At a loss for words? Unable to make any sense of what an inebriated Big Fish is talking at you about? Trapped in a conversation with someone who sounds as if he’s speaking a foreign language even though he’s talking in English? Simply repeat any one of our five all-purpose phrases and you will be able to hold up your end of any conversation.

Here’s how it works. Suppose you are at a dinner party seated next to a drunk husband or wife who demands you give your opinion about their ex-husband’s/wife’s recent infidelity. Not surprisingly, Wild Boars of both sexes often find themselves in this position. For the purpose of this exercise, suppose a heartbroken Wild Boar spouse you’re trying to have a civilized conversation with recently came home and discovered his or her husband or wife having sex with their manny. And the jilted
Wild Boar demands of you, in a loud voice, “How would you feel if that happened to you?”

Unfortunately, you
can’t
say, “They should be horsewhipped” because you know for a fact that your hostess is sleeping with her manny. The table goes quiet. Some of the guests are curious to hear your opinion. Rival social climbers will be looking forward to your going down in flames. You’re hoping the spouse has an alcoholic seizure so you don’t have to answer. But instead, the Wild Boar slurs, “So what do you have to say to that, Mr. Nobody from Nowhere?”

Now what do you say? Of course, what you’d like to say is, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” but that is not considered polite conversation except in a David Mamet play and will not get you a reputation for being a great guest. Instead, stay calm and repeat the first of our multipurpose phrases with a world-weary sigh, “
Tout le monde mange. . . . Et nous sommes le dîner
.” Then translate as if you can actually speak French, “All the world loves to eat, and we are the dinner.” Suddenly, you haven’t just put out the fire, you’re a sage philosopher.

If you have trouble with French, tell the Boar, “You have to love the game beyond the prize.” This one not only makes you seem fair, but also reminds everyone at the table, including the jilted drunk, how important it is to be a good sport in life.