You’ll wonder where the ‘tales’ started I have no doubt, because being quick you’ll notice ‘continuing’. Well, there’s a wonderful person (or maybe she (or he) is a nom de plume) called Serena Gray who, as far as I know, has written only one book called, yep, The Slag’s Almanac. [Currently out of print.]
Of course, if you are not a slag at heart the tales will be far from wonderful. I should stress, as does Ms Gray, that being a slag is far, far, different from being a slob. I shall quote from Ms Gray on the subject:
The Slob
“A slob is a person who, unless checked, will use the linen tablecloth in the restaurant as a napkin, and who can’t lift a cup of tea to his or her lips without spilling half of it down his or her front. Slobs don’t notice that their socks will stand up by themselves, that plants wilt and die as they pass by, that others can always tell when they have been in the room. Slobs you notice.”
The Slag
“The slag, on the other hand, blends into the crowd. You have to look to spot a slag; you have to know the signs. Under normal circumstances, the slag looks just like you or me (indeed, the slag probably is you or me). The slag is not without manners, good sense, or personal esteem. The slag is a person who understands that the putting on of any garment in a light colour – especially if it is new or fresh from the laundry – is asking for trouble. He, or she, knows the minute you don anything lighter than charcoal (especially if it wasn’t cheap), dirt and stains are attracted to it like those determined old moths to that steady old flame. Where the slag differs from my Aunt Beryl (for instance) is that the slag, discovering a coffee stain on her new blouse, will put a jacket or a jumper over it and go to work. My Aunt Beryl would change. In fact, my Aunt Beryl was late for her own wedding because halfway to the church she discovered a ladder in her stocking and had to be taken home to put on another pair. The slob wouldn’t even know there was a coffee stain on her blouse.”
Moving right along
So there you have it, the difference between a slob, a slag, and everyone has one: an Aunt Beryl. ‘Aunt Beryl types’ you know immediately you visit their homes, and if there is the slightest doubt, try putting your quarter-full tea cup back on the saucer and see what happens. Indeed, whisked away to the dishwasher before you can say: “lovely; any chance of a top up?” Or, if when you get up to go to the loo, and before you’ve made it through the door to the hallway, the cushions in the chair you were using have been plumped up, smoothed and put back, you are definitely in the presence of a full-blown ‘Aunt Beryl type’.
Those of us who are died-in-the-wool slags would have to say “Commiserations!” And, to counteract the undue influence of ‘Beryl types’, we’d strenuously encourage you to take up the life of a slag. (And of course ‘Beryl types’ can be men too. Some of the fussiest, most decorous, Beryl types are men.) Of course, in the presence of the true slob, the slag slides along the ‘decorous scale’ towards the Aunt Beryls of this world with rapidity, and vice-versa. The two types huddle together for mutual protection against the true slob – but only until all danger of contamination is past, for then skirmishing – ‘Standards my dear! Whatever will the neighbours think?’ – resumes with alacrity.
Well, if you had to ask you are not following along here! Of course those are the main rallying cries of the Aunt Beryls of this world. A slag has standards but they are kind of flexible, adaptable, malleable? Something like that anyway, and who gives a dust mote, or several inches thereof, for the opinions of the neighbours about one’s personal approach to life, eh? We slags are not insisting that you follow our example… We merely point out that life is comparatively short and there ARE better things to do with your life than immediately leap about fixing things which aren’t really broke…
I mean, really broken is when you cannot FIND the door handle and in that moment know, as my mother would say, ‘deep in your water’, that said handle is on the other side of the now locked door. That’s broken – but an inventive slag can often find a way of seeing it as ’soon needing repair’, and STILL find a way out without calling the neighbours for help.
Until the next time… happy slag spotting!