The Social Climber's Bible: A Book of Manners, Practical Tips, and Spiritual Advice forthe Upwardly Mobile (5 page)

b. You already know they think bad things about you, and it doesn’t bother you.

c. If they are stupid enough to leave their diary out around somebody like you, they deserve to have it read.

d. It will make you feel good to see how much they have always envied you.

e. If you know your best friend’s most embarrassing secrets, it will be easier for you to get them to loan you money . . .  again.

f. Because you know that if you asked to read it, they would say no, so they are not really your best friend anyway.

7. When you’re at a party and people richer, more attractive, and/or more popular than yourself snub you, you:

a. Take their low opinion of you as a sign they are worth getting to know.

b. Recognize that their low opinion of you demonstrates their excellent taste
and confirms your doubts about yourself.

c. Try to seduce them so you can have the satisfaction of criticizing their lack of sexual prowess.

d. Hope they get fat and develop a disfiguring skin disease so you can give them cruel nicknames.

e. Excuse yourself from the party and pee on the door handle of their car.

f. Tell everyone how much you like them and that the rumors about their genital warts are not true.

8. When you look in the mirror, you see;

a. Someone who deserves more.

b. Someone who needs help.

c. Someone who would be a better person if there was money in it.

d. Someone you would rather not have sex with.

e. Someone you wish you could have sex with.

f. The most honest and loving person you know.

9.
When people compliment you, you:

a. Wonder what they want from you.

b. Know they are lying and/or being sarcastic.

c. Think they are a bad judge of character and wonder how you can take advantage of their stupidity.

d. Tell them they have great taste.

e. Worry that you will now have to pay back the money you borrowed from them.

f. Return the compliment in hopes you can get something from them.

10. When you look at this picture, you see:

a. People you haven’t met who can help you.

b. People having fun at a party you’re not invited to.

c. You on your yacht in Saint Tropez surrounded by celebrity friends, with a hundred million dollars in your bank account.

d.
A part of your body you should consider shaving.

e. All the lies you’ve told that make you seem more interesting.

f. All the people who wish they were you.

To score the test and find out what kind of social climber you are, add up the number of a, b, c, d, e, and f answers you have given.

If you have five or more “a” answers, you fall under the personality type we call a
Tactician
. You are, above all else, patient. Like a deer tick, you may wait a full year before attaching yourself to a warm-blooded creature who can carry you to the top. You are willing to become bosom buddies with six thoroughly unpleasant people in order to gain an introduction to the one person you really want to meet. As a child, you were good at making the most popular boy or girl in your class emotionally dependent on you. You know how to do just enough to seem like a better person than you are. You help others and generously volunteer small lies and alibis for recent acquaintances so when the time comes they will have to tell big lies for you.

Five or more “b” answers, you’re what we call a
Velcro-Climber
. You have a God-given knack for attaching yourself to those who can advance you whether they like you or not. Your popularity has always stemmed from the fact that since you refuse to take a hint to get lost, you are impossible to ditch. By relentlessly inflicting your presence on others more popular, talented, and
powerful than yourself, you wear down their defenses so that by the end of the evening, it is less exhausting for the somebodies of this world to let you hang with them than to keep running from you. Velcro-Climbers are often emotionally or physically impaired and are therefore skilled at making others feel guilty that they have more. Often, you enjoy playing the role of designated driver, and you are a skilled mixologist, which enables you to get people so drunk they have to let you drive them home.

Five or more “c” answers, you’re what we call a
Go-Getter
. Being pushy comes naturally to you, you have always been aggressive toward people, especially those smaller and weaker than yourself. You want what others have, even if you don’t want what they have. Usually, but not always, Go-Getters find themselves identifying with the shark on childhood trips to the aquarium. You are good at taking credit for other people’s ideas and have always felt that those who lack the moral fortitude to lie and cheat deserve to be taken advantage of by people like yourself. Though the climbing techniques that come naturally to you are not subtle or pretty to watch, they are particularly effective for those trying to get ahead in New York City, Los Angeles, Third World dictatorships, or dystopian novels.

Five or more “d” answers, you’re what we call the
Taste Meister
. You have always had the wisdom to value superficial things, people, and ideas. You understand the most pressing problems facing the world are not human rights, malnutrition, or the environmental crisis, but the ever-growing number of people with bad taste who are not using birth control. You believe that people who look intelligent and happy in photographs
actually are, which is why you like to have your picture taken. You have been adept since childhood at covering up your lack of sophistication and creativity by convincing others you know more about being superficial than they do. You have always known how to make others feel dumb and boring for not buying or liking the same things that you do. Because Taste Meisters need money and/or power to inflict their bad taste on innocent bystanders, they often obtain rich and powerful girlfriends/boyfriends/spouses and/or choose professions that enable them to spend extremely large sums of other people’s money on objects that go out of fashion shortly after it’s too late to return them.

Five or more “e” answers, you’re what we call a
Mysterious Stranger
. People who have known you for years don’t really know you, and you continually surprise yourself by your instinctive ability to exaggerate your accomplishments. Mysterious Strangers often, but not always, have an unusually honest face. This, coupled with a raconteur’s gift for telling interesting stories about your life that never happened allows you to make new friends quickly. You have never let the truth get in the way of a good story, particularly if it makes you look good. Well-dressed unemployed foreigners and stylish individuals with fake accents and good table manners often fall into this “unknown” category.

Five or more “f” answers, you’re what we call the
Good Old-Fashioned Phony
. People have always liked you because you tell them what they want to hear. You never say a bad word about anyone or anything. But beneath your sunny disposition, you have the good sense to always suspect the worst of others. Good Old-Fashioned Phonies often have freckles and unusually
large eyes, features that make people inclined to make the mistake of trusting them. You are often perceived as naïve, idealistic, and good-hearted. Only you know you would have drowned kittens to get ahead. People don’t realize how smart you are until you have stolen their friends and have outclimbed them.

Those whose answers indicate several kinds of personality traits should take comfort in the fact that they have the makings of a well-rounded Mountaineer. Those whose answers to nine or more questions fall into any single category should know you are truly special and, as such, should consider adjusting your medication and retaking this test.

“
D
itch” is an ugly word. We prefer to think of it as pruning the deadwood from the forest of your life so the new person you’re about to become can grow tall. Or, as the Zen members of the social climbing community call it, practicing the art of “friend shui.”

We understand that saying good-bye to lifelong friends and family members who will be a social liability can be hard. But honestly, do you really want your older brother hanging around telling Anna Wintour how you got the nickname Stinky?

Do you want that childhood friend who, after that first glass of Pinot Grigio, never fails to tell the story about the summer you gave crabs to all the lifeguards at Jones Beach tagging along with you to the polo matches in Bridgehampton?

Couple that possibility with the fact that if you let them ride on your coattails and brought them along to all the fabulous places you’ll be going, wouldn’t they, in their heart of hearts, know that they, unlike you, don’t belong? Isn’t it even more obvious that they’d resent you for wanting to belong? Trust us, it is kinder and safer to delete them from your contacts before you even begin your climb.

The most difficult steps a fledgling Mountaineer has to take are the ones that come before he or she ever steps out the door and goes to the first party. Just as we asked you to take off your clothes and stand naked in front of the mirror to appraise your own physical assets, now it’s time to cast a cold and unsentimental look at the people in your life.

Make a list of everyone you know. Relatives, friends, acquaintances, etc. Those who have more social entrée, access, or helpful friends than you do, mark as Keepers. Everyone else in your life is now a non-Keeper.

The odds are you will be shocked by how few Keepers you
have. Don’t be discouraged. Try to remember the name of the girl who sat next to you in kindergarten who ate paste but whose family had a private plane. The hairless boy at sleepaway camp whom everybody made fun of for wetting his bed but went to Exeter. Yes, you made fun of him, too—but that doesn’t mean you can’t be friends now that you need him. He probably needs you, too.

Google search that great-aunt who called your grandfather white trash and has not spoken to your family since she married that Park Avenue surgeon or a Beverly Hills attorney. The chances are she’ll enjoy hearing from you, especially if you volunteer that you now think your grandfather’s white trash, too, and have followed her example and cut off contact with your family.

The world is a smaller place than you think. Be cheered by the fact that, at most, six degrees of separation lie between you and the kind of somebody who could change your life. Just to play it safe (without making it obvious), before ditching your old friends, casually inquire if they or any of their relations know anyone rich and/or famous. If so, make a point of getting them to introduce you to their somebodies before burning them with the rest of your personal deadwood.

Obviously, the deadwood in your life includes any individuals you are currently romantically involved with.

Once you have culled the non-Keepers from your social life, if the old crowd asks why you don’t return their phone calls or hang out with them anymore at Hooters or the Olive Garden (or any other establishments you should never be caught dead in again, unless you are a climber who hopes to hang with the stars of
Duck Dynasty
), do not tell them the truth. Tell them you’ve given up drinking or are going to night school. If they persist, especially if the non-Keepers include family members, we strongly suggest moving to a different city and/or state.

Curiously enough, not knowing anybody in a new city can work to your advantage. The kind of creative embellishment of your backstory discussed in the previous chapter will be infinitely easier if you don’t have to worry about people you grew up with constantly saying, “That’s not true.”