Source : the age
According to recent research, you can determine whether someone is middle class on the basis of their wealth.
If you have net assets of between $300,000 and $900,000, you are middle class. If you have between $900,000 and $1.6 million, you’re upper class. And if, by freakish circumstance, you have assets of over $1.6 million, then you are part of “the elite”.
Well, not so fast. I think being middle class is more a matter of attitude than simple cash. Let me count the ways.
1: When leaving a motel I take three teabags and all the soap, but leave one teabag and a sachet of sugar just so the housekeeper doesn’t think I’m cheap.
2: I have never joined a queue. I’ll try the place down the road.
3: I have never bought a new piece of technology on the day of its release. (See above, I have never joined a queue.)
4: I’d rather eat a burnt steak than complain to the waiter.
5: I’d rather eat raw risotto than complain to the waiter.
6: My main fear about dying is being the centre of attention at my own funeral.
7: I’m wealthy enough to study the share tips in the Australian Financial Review, but so cheap I visit the local café to read their copy.
8: I check my self-managed super fund, but only on days when I know the market has gone up.
9: When choosing an item in the supermarket, I pick the second cheapest, knowing this is the definition of being middle class.
10: I have plates “for best” and cutlery “for best” and hope my friends realise I’ve brought out the special stuff.
11: I am sufficiently wealthy to pay for the buffet breakfast in the fancy hotel, but sufficiently stingy to try and pocket a bread roll for lunch.
12: I save old bits of string, placing the smaller ones in a container marked “bits of string too short to ever use”.
13: If a woollen jumper develops a hole, I find a jumper of the same colour with a hole in a different place and wear both so no-one will notice.
14: I never drink cask wine, as I’m far too posh – instead, I drink bottled wine of such appalling quality they’d never dare put it in a cask.
15: I never throw anything out because “you never know”.
16: I would never buy a personalised number plate and would change my name if, by chance, I was supplied a number plate that looked like I had.
17: I’m sufficiently well-organised to possess a box full of screwdrivers of every possible kind, all contained in a box marked “screwdrivers of every possible kind”.
18: Ditto: “assorted screws and nails”.
19: I define “luxury” as having two Stanley knives, in a plastic box marked “Stanley knives”.
20: I have never thrown out a bath towel, allowing them the dignity of the final life stages of “gym towel”, “dog towel” and finally “cleaning rag”.
21: My preferred means of travel is a bus and, if not, my own car, and never a limousine.
22: I was once offered one of those fancy credit cards that suggests wealth and prestige but declined.
23: I’d sooner sit on the floor than buy a couch on credit.
24: I judge people who drive ridiculously expensive cars.
25: I judge people who have ridiculously expensive handbags.
26: I judge people who buy ridiculously expensive watches.
27: We eat dinner at 7.30pm, which we define as occurring at 6.15pm.
28: I never drink before 6pm, which I define as occurring at 5.05pm.
29: I scrape the mould off jam and cheese rather than throwing it out.
30: I believe “use by” dates are a fiction invented by manufacturers to drive up sales.
31: My partner and I only eat in front of the television when it’s a special occasion, such as a weeknight or the weekend, and then quickly cover up the evidence if anyone should arrive.
32: My main reason for not dabbling in the world of illegal drugs is not the immorality of encouraging organised crime, but the risible street slang involved in their purchase.
33: I jiggle the nozzle once I’ve filled up the car, just to capture those last few drops.
34: I don’t throw out books even when they’ve gone all mouldy, even the ones I wish I’d never bought.
35: I claim to be an environmentalist when I save leftovers, but really I’m too cheap to buy lunch.
36: I check the “price per unit” before selecting a brand of dishwasher tablets.
37: I have a black-tie suit, but have it dry-cleaned so rarely it could attend functions on its own.
38: I apologise when someone bumps into me.
39: I apologise when my friend can’t remember my name.
40: I apologise whenever offered the chance.
Money? You may have less than the survey says, or maybe much more, but being truly middle class is a rather different matter.
