The Flake Scale

Grade I flake: Not a flake. You are reliable and predictable. You show up exactly when and where you say you will be, and you are never late. In fact, you are usually five minutes early. You are, however, baffled and frustrated by your disorganized, scatty friends, and you dearly miss the good old days, before mobile phones enabled extreme flakiness.

Grade II flake: You take pride in reliably showing up where you say you will be, but you are inevitably 15–30 minutes late. Your mates have learned to adapt plans to your chronic lateness. Train delays and traffic jams are your friends, or at least useful excuses. One day, you will leave on time, not ten minutes after you meant to, you promise, but it will not be today.

Grade III flake: You generally show up where you say you will be, but you are usually an hour or three late. Your friends have learned to lie to you and tell you that you’re starting the hike at 2, instead of 3, hoping you’ll be there nearer to 3 than 4. You often try to change plans at the last minute, because if you’re two hours behind schedule, it would be easier to go somewhere else. Occasionally, you’re so late that you have to bail, but you feel guilty about it for days.

Grade IV flake: You are frequently an hour late, and about 50% of the time, you don’t show up at all. Your friends have started a betting pool over the odds of you appearing. Commitments made in advance are challenging. You tell everyone “yes,” forming an array of plans with different people, so you have options, and then you can’t remember half of them anyway. What if the weather is better somewhere else, or you wake up and have another idea? That’s what What’s App is for.

Grade V flake: Nobody can actually remember the last time you stuck to any plan. You have so many great notions and ambitions, but you can’t quite get it together. Something always comes up. The good news is that you’re keeping expectations low. Your friends no longer make plans which are reliant on your presence. No one believes that you’ll be there and when you are — on the rare days that pigs sprout wings — your friends are really pleased to see you.

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