Going to the Dogs Part Two
When we left off, I was busy comparing men to dogs. And not in a lady-comedian “at least my dog leaves the toilet seat down…” kind of way. I was using the Westminster Dog Show’s judicial system as a means of determining which league we all fit into. To recap: I’d rank myself a two on “muzzle” (I’m yappy) a four on “balance” (kind of a drunk) and an eight on “teeth” (they’re all accounted for, but I drink a lot of coffee).
But fellas...don’t have the vet put me down just yet! There’s still so much more to cover:
Coat: A person’s coat typically provides insight as to how much money he/she has. On a scale of one to ten, how expensive does the coat look? Are the elbow patches sewn on it ironic or necessary? Are the security tags still on? Automatic zero if your date is a man wearing a woman’s pea coat. (Seriously, this happens more often than you’d think.)
Temperament: Is the person docile or irritable? Easygoing or puckish? Gentle and complacent, or petulant and ornery? Sorry, I’m a little obsessed with snooty Dog Show-speak. What I mean to say is, on a scale of one to ten (ten being chivalrous, one being a total dick), how does your date rank? Automatic zero if your date is Chris Brown. Negative ten points if your date is Chris Brown wearing a woman’s pea coat.
Jowls: Like rings on a tree trunk, the number of jowls on a man’s face can be a clear indicator of his age. If his chin is as clefty and solid as Gaston’s from Beauty and the Beast, he’s earned a ten. However, if his neck ripples more than a parachute during a kindergarten gym class, deduct a few points.
Given the “six” I earned on my ratty (but edgy) second-hand leather jacket, the “eight” I graded myself on my laid-back temperament and the “5” I ranked myself on my jowls (do photoshopped photos count?), My Dog Show ranking would be a 5.5. Apparently I am the bull terrier of girls! This basically means that I could be very happy with a Border Collie or Toy Poodle, but Golden Retrievers, Burmese Mountain dogs and Dachshunds are beyond my reach. This won’t stop me from sniffing my share of Labrador ass at the dog park, but hey, at least I know my place.