Thank You, Mr. Faux Hawk

I was at the bar again last night. (I know, me at a bar. How shocking!)

Rock the Faux Hawk

Anyway, there was this one guy there who tried hitting on every woman in the place. He had a faux hawk hairdo and a fake bake suntan. He was also wearing a Hawaiian shirt and enough cologne that I could smell him from twenty feet away.

This gentleman - and I use that term loosely - was a douche bag. A bag of doucheitude, if you will.

The good news, though, is that with him on the prowl, I looked that much better by comparison. He would swing by a table of blondes and make a fool of himself. When I came by later, my "classic beta" self seemed some much higher up the food chain that I was able to get much farther than he did.

All of this makes me think that should probably hire some guy to act like a total douche bag where ever I go.

Or I can simply rely on the universe to provide an endless supply of douche bag guys.