Consider yourselves warned. They’re out there. They’re everywhere. And I’m not talking about bath salt-snorting freaks looking to gnaw on your cartilage. I’m talking about real douchebags here, guys who are true attention whores and/or clueless about how off-putting their social behavior can be. And they’re all over the place, I tell you. From the guy that still rocks a Big Johnson t-shirt to the smart ass that puts on a rally cap in the second inning.
That cool picture you thought you took with your best friends only to find out that some jerk photo bombed the hell out of it? Tarnished forever. And what really made it worse was that you didn’t know it until after you posted it online.
I once saw a guy offer to take a group shot of four unsuspecting females, only to have his buddy get into the background while they stood there posing and dreaming of Facebook likes. The guy must have taken at least 5 shots, all with his buddy in the background making a different freaky face with every shot. The prank was funny, the poser guy fell into douchebag status for wearing his flowery Ed Hardy shirt two sizes too small.
You see, guys like to snug it up sometimes, wear something form-fitting. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just that douchebags take it a step further. Because there’s snug and then there’s the guy that might as well be wearing a sausage casing, his shirt’s so tight.
And so here we must point out a fundamental difference: some people choose to be douchebags while others are merely clueless. The above photo bomb example reminds of another situation a very long time ago, when summer league coaches wore tight-ass short shorts, which might as well have been the precursor to today’s Spanx.
My best friend’s soccer team was taking their group picture and instead of standing in the back row and off to the side pretending to look like they knew what they were doing and/or gave a damn like all coaches normally did, this particular gentleman decided to huddle next to one of his kids at the end of the front row. Nothing wrong with that sort of pose; one could see how it projected enthusiasm and caring. Yet he instantly etched himself in douchebag lore when one of the coach’s nuts decided to step out for a breather mid crouch.
“It looked like the guy had sat on pink bubble gum,” my friend recalled years later. “Helluva coach, though.”
And since we’re on the subject of male genitalia, here’s a sure-fire way to spot a total douche in a public toilet, men. Just look at the pee styles of the guys in front of you as you’re waiting your turn. LOOK but don’t look, you understand. In fact, you can tell a lot from the way a dude pisses at the stand-up urinal. There’s the normal one-hander that takes care of business, washes his hands and takes off.
Then there’s the douchebag that drops his pants all the way to his ankles, to hell with all the piss droplets on the sticky floor that went rogue in this public facility. Ok, I give a pass to the five-year-olds that really know better, but a grown man? He should be old enough to realize that he’s letting about 20 billion germs tag along when he pulls his trousers back up – right to his junk. Oddly enough, these are the geniuses that don’t wash their hands.
Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention That Guy that always seems to find his way next the pisser I’m using, the one who scores no originality points when he declares, “So, this is where all the dicks hang out!” (Hey-oh!)
Don’t be That Guy. That Guy is always a douche bag. That Guy goes third person when he gets riled up. Only Rickey Henderson is allowed to do that, it’s a man law damn it! That Guy wears his sunglasses indoors, spray tans and poses for pictures with trout mouth.
In other words, he’s A-Rod! Or he wants to be, at least.
Look, we can all be a little douchey at times. Call it a guilty pleasure but I pass by a public golf course at least five times a day and I’m always on the lookout for someone putting or teeing off so I can jam my horn during someone’s backswing. I know, I know, total d-bag move, and you’re right. It’s just that it makes me giggle so…the looks on their faces… never mind.
I mean, it could be worse. It’s not like I’m taking the family on an epic vacation drive with my dog strapped to the roof of my SUV.
Nobody’s that big of a douchebag, right? Right?
Phillip D. Cortez writes Monkey C Blog mostly every week and is the author of Night Rhythms, a children’s book for people of all ages. His next book, When I Close My Eyes, is due out in the Fall. Follow on Twitter @monkeycblog and LIKE at fb.com/monkeycblog