In every upper-echelon, self-important and snooty social environment (say, where boy waiters serve wine smoother than silk and cheese unparalleled in all the earth) some individuals will be so overly self-absorbed that any use of slang speech is scorned and even orally punished. This is exactly where is it better to be sorry than safe.
Why trouble yourself with being scrupulously conscientious of your words? In these high-brow and brown-nose social contexts, it’s the humble writer’s duty to maneuver street slang into conversations. When the domineering doctor asks why you haven’t finished graduate studies, simply respond with, “In da streets, it takes mó den maad green and vile vainglory to climb up the ladda of sucksess.” If he fights, flights or freezes, revel in the untamed and befuddled faces he makes. If he enjoys your humor, knight him as your own, a G. Resist every urge to feel sorry. It’s a safe aim to shock pompous types with an amalgamation of erudite and gansta talk.