You may be a bastard if:
You regret your moving- in-day attitude of say-anything- to-make-your-flatmates-think- you’re-not-a-bastard, which led to the comment ‘Yeah sure man, use whatever you need’. You didn’t realise this would lead to having jodhpurs returned with your copy of Tatler stapled to them, with your own bloody stapler! Leave the ‘dudes’ to their pashmina and mung bean love-in, and cab to the Garrick for a steak.
You discover that the new friendship you had been careful- ly cultivating for the past fifteen minutes was with an affiliate student, who will be buggering off back to America in a few weeks. It is entirely appropriate to screen potential new friends like job applicants; in the busi- ness of making friends commit- ment is valuable. Just tell them, “Sorry guy, but befriending you would be like an employer hir- ing a pregnant woman. Awful.”
You find yourself pretend- ing to inhale marijuana in your kitchen, after telling your house- mates that ‘you love the green’. You were referring to money, of course. There are only so many times you can profess your love for Reggae Reggae sauce before you have to admit your family used to own Jamaica.
You smash up every bit of undersized Argos furniture in your shared sitting room, then plonk a 400 year old solid oak chaise longue down, lie back and feed yourself grapes.
Quick Bastard Checklist:
1. Your first question at parties is ‘guess what school I went to?’
2. You refer to your gap year as ‘The Grand Tour’.
3. You keep your hunting falcon in the bathroom cabinet.
4. You blow your nose on a Titian.
5. Scarves.
6. As you read this, gravy is running off your jowls.