I’ve recently discovered a trend in the Noog that’s probably always been present, just unnoticed and/or patiently tolerated by me until now. Some people are just plain jackasses. You know the species. The jackass, known for its cunning ability to spread obnoxious behavior with thoughtless, unpredictable accuracy in the paths of normal, savvy individuals who unknowingly happen to enter their domain.
It’s easy to spot a jackass, though they will not always display jackass behavior immediately. For, if a jackass knew it was a jackass, it wouldn’t act like a jackass. No, this creature’s inability to recognize its own missteps only adds to its mysterious nature. It’s kind of like a dog. All dogs look like dogs, only some fetch and some bite. You just never always know which will do what at first glance.
There are some tale-tell signs to look for when determining whether an unknown individual has the propensity to be a jackass (even in disguise). Here are some obvious things to look for:
Headwear: The jackass is commonly seen sporting a baseball cap turned around backwards so that the only thing the bill is good for is keeping the neck from becoming even redder. Never in my life have I heard an intelligent comment or seen acceptable behavior that wasn’t forced coming from someone wearing a backwards baseball cap. It’s Jackass 101. The hipster version, in case you were wondering, is the loose fitting wool “Where’s Waldo” toboggan worn regardless of outdoor temperatures.
Vehicle: The jackass prefers one of two types of transportation. The first is a truck or jeep “jacked up” with lift kits and oversized mud tires that defy street legalities and good common sense. And, just to prove that the vehicle has been off the pavement sometime in its life, any mud streaks it adorns must never be washed … ever. The second type of preferred vehicle is any late-model, American-made muscle car with after-market wheels, oversized window decals and of course, an alarmingly loud stereo system.
Sound System: Within their chariot of choice, the jackass nearly always surmises that stock sound systems will in no way meet the demands for displaying their prowess on the streets. Therefore, after-market stereos and speaker boxes with power capabilities normally reserved for the PA systems of small clubs must be crammed within the trunk and then cranked up in order to enable every car in a two-block radius of their current location to hear their favorite jams.
Favorite Songs: In addition to normal bass-thumping hip-hop, the Caucasian jackass likes to crank “The Road Goes on Forever (and The Party Never Ends)” by Robert Earl Keen, “You Never Even Called Me By My Name” by David Allen Coe, any and every jam band, Kanye West’s complete catalog and any song that’s ever been played on Rock 105.
Now that we’ve determined some common visible (or audible) traits of the jackass, the only thing left to cover is the mannerisms of their breed. Jackasses want everyone to know they’ve arrived. For example, their mating call at local watering holes starts with the infectious “I’m here to party” howl of “wooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!”
From there, things immediately proceed downhill. With a Coors Light in one hand and a Marlboro Light in the other, they bow up their one-size-too-small Ed Hardy T-shirts that conveniently enable upper-arm tribal tattoos to blaze and strut around buying shots for unsuspecting females with heels higher than their IQs. They twirl pool cues in Ninja fashion, nearly always jump the cue ball off the table during the break and have an unquenchable desire to know “whassup” from anyone who approaches the pack. But I feel as if I’m picking on the meathead subspecies, so let me tell a little story about a set of hipster jackasses I recently encountered.