considered the possibility that your siblings and or childhood pals say embarrassing things about you because they have always resented you for being smarter, more talented, and more attractive than they are?
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 youhave. 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.
You know better than anyone that if your boyfriend/girlfriend had anything going for them you wouldn’t be turning to
The Social Climber’s Bible
for comfort.
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.”
Everyone who moves to “the Big City,” especially if they’re in their twenties or early thirties, reinvents themselves. They try on different lifestyles and attitudes, expose themselves to types of people they never would have met had they stayed at home. The only difference between the civilian who comes to Gotham and makes new friends and the social climber