In a society where clout is the only currency that matters, is canceling plans the new Birkin bag? Showing up late has been a core pillar of cool since the archaic days of Winston Churchill’s perpetual tardiness. Your on-time friends, who had nothing notable keeping them from a prompt arrival, are insignificant sheeple, while you, an innovative disruptor, will inevitably be forced to keep them waiting. You have worlds to build and empires to conquer; they’re lucky they even get to bask in your presence at all!
But what if simply being late isn’t cutting it anymore? Take Law #16 of The 48 Laws of Power: “Use absence to increase respect and honor.” When you’re always available for Sunday brunch, your social group will gradually value your “crazy work gossip” less and less. That’s on science.
Canceling plans creates scarcity and intrigue — or breeds resentment. Either way, it’s a golden tactic for communicating the one thing we know is true: you’re better than everyone else. We’ve put together a guide to the five most common canceller archetypes, so you can send it to your group chat like, “Haha, tag yourself!” but what you really mean is, “I’m onto you, Heather.”
The Headache Hottie
The Headache Hottie agrees to plans when she’s in a good mood, but as soon as the actual day rolls around, she’d rather stay swaddled in her duvet, watching endless episodes of Chopped with her fiancé. And what are you supposed to do, accuse her of self-Munchausen to get out of Pilates?
The Text: “Ugh, I have another killer headache — can we rain check? 😥”
The Social Climber
The Social Climber only said yes to attending your mutual friend’s art show because she had an open Thursday evening. Still, as soon as she sniffs out something cooler, like a douchey warehouse party from the Crackident episode of Girls, she’s leaving you to awkwardly hover by the cheese plate alone.
The Text: “OMG. I totally forgot I double-booked myself. Send Tara my love xx!”
The Girlboss
The Girlboss genuinely wishes she could leave Excel Jail and join you for happy hour negronis, but her super stressful job doesn’t often allow for such luxuries. She’s not at a stage in her career where she’s able to push back on last-minute onslaughts of work, so she sometimes cancels once you’ve already grabbed a seat at the bar, forcing you to act like you intended to drink alone. But you don’t have a book because you thought you were meeting a friend, so you must pull out the NYT Spelling Bee game while you finish your $20 gin & tonic. That said, you know that one day, The Girlboss will make it up to you with free Nobu when she’s calling the “pls fix” shots.
The Text: “I’m getting fucked at work. Don’t hate me?”
The Politician
The Politician never 100% agreed to the plans in the first place and always leverages vague, non-committal language to avoid being held accountable. She’ll RSVP “Maybe” on your Partiful link just to see if anyone valuable to her network is going to be there, pretend she has “a crazy week coming up,” or say she can’t confirm her avails without “double checking with Greg.” (WHO IS GREG?!)
The Text: “Hey! Thanks for the invite. I’ll lyk how I feel after spin class.”
The Tail Chaser
The Tail Chaser is a Carrie Bradshaw wannabe who thinks she’s “giving off main character energy” when she’s really just a chronic interrupter who can find infinite ways to redirect a conversation back to herself. She humblebrags about her Raya account every five minutes even though she secretly has better luck on Bumble, and she’d bail on her own grandmother’s funeral if it meant a chance at riding a DJ’s dick.
The Text: “Hot Waffle Guy just texted me! Sorry girls, my chariot awaits! 😘🍆”
