Like most working parents, I don’t have tons of free time for reading.  So I’m sure it’s not surprising to many of you that I’m just now getting around to reading my subscription magazines from the fall.  I was reading the October issue of Vanity Fair (the cover features a pair of boobs with Nicole Kidman attached to them) when I stumbled across an article called “Know Your Asshole Footprint“. 

The “Asshole Footprint” is arranged as a questionnaire, categorized by age, and designed to help readers increase self awareness of their own tendencies towards arrogance, rudeness, carelessness, and entitlement - all behaviors that routinely pollute our social environment. 

Reviewing the questionnaire I was surprised to learn that Dick and I are assholes.  Apparently, we are assholes because we…

  1. require more than 2 words to describe what we do for a living
  2. have referred to child-rearing as “doing the parenting thing”
  3. have both worked in offices that have a Ping-Pong or Foosball table
  4. are writing a blog. Truthfully, Dick just serves as source material - I’m the one doing the writing.  Damn him!

The aforementioned offenses seem fairly benign to me.  I’d never assumed that there were shades of gray when it comes to being an asshole.  It always seemed like you either are one or you aren’t, and I’d always tried to go out of my to not be an asshole. 

The more I thought about it, the more I thought that, maybe the “Asshole Footprint”, while entertaining, is too simplistic an attempt at assigning logic to chaos.  As I envision it, the less entertaining and more orderly approach would be to lump most of the other, nastier metaphors we use for one another under the asshole umbrella, in effect, making the term “asshole” the top of a metaphoric social taxonomy - an asshole Kingdom, as it were.  Under the Asshole Kingdom one could be further identified by their specific brand of offense through a Phylum, Class, Order, etc.  So in my case, I am a member of the asshole kingdom, yuppie phylum, cliche class.   This organization levels the playing field; we’re all assholes so now it’s just a matter of focusing in on the finer points of your offensive nature.

Addmitedly, this is all very high-concept.  I think it’s best to put this notion into context with a few examples:  

How about the obnoxious garage sale patron who bought my first edition hardback of the “Celestine Prophecy” for $2 and then bragged to my face about how stupid I was and how he’d make ten times more selling it to the local used bookstore?  When my mother-in-law told him to leave, he hurled more insults at us, incensing my pacifist, librarian mother-in-law to the point of fist-shaking anger.  As he walked down the street trading barbs with her, she yelled, “You’re an asshole and you’re not welcome here again!” He replied, “Did they teach you that kind of language in grad school, grandma!” 

Phylum: Obnoxious, Class: Jerkus, Order: Know-it-all

I think we can all agree that the typical office workplace exposes one to more than their fair share of assholes.  This explains the universal appeal of the film “Office Space“.  For instance, there’s the ubiquitous sales or marketing guy who dresses in double-breasted suits, sports “power” ties, gels his hair, says things like “boooya!”, and wears too much flashy jewelry.  This guy typically drives a Hummer or a sports car and may or may not be married, but always brags to all the guys about the “hot chicks” he’s “banging”.  

Phylum: Poser, Class: Prickus, Order: Sleazus

Briefly, I worked with a woman in a power position who actually went out of her way to publicly tear people apart, especially men.  The slightest mis-step would lead to an unprovoked and eviscerating attack, frequently leaving her victim in tears.  Afterwards, she’d brag to all the women within ear shot about how she loved making men cry.

Phylum: Bitch, Class: Femi-Nazius, Order: Wacko

And then, of course, there are the less extreme, but no less offensive assholes you encounter every day. He (or she) is the one in the far left hand lane who decides that they’re willing to take their life, your life and the lives of your children to make the next exit.  With almost no warning (and never a glance over their shoulder or a signal), they “Tron light cycle it” across all 5 lanes of traffic, forcing you to slam on your brakes or swerve wildly to avoid hitting them.  These people typically choose rainy or icy road conditions for these types of reckless maneuvers and when you honk your horn or bright them, they flip you off. 

Phylum: Idiot, Class: Dangerous, Order: Shitius Driverus

Of course there are many others - the ignorant, insensitive and racist  - they all have their place in my orderly universe.  

But as an asshole, yuppie, cliche, patheticus, I almost admire those who’ve made it into the ballsier, more offensive phyla.  Am I really the best asshole I can be?  Sadly, I think part of the problem is that I’ve always reserved the use of the a-word for the lowest of the low.  I just don’t go around sprinkling ass all over the place like I should.  I also tend to donate to charity, smile a lot and generally overlook people who act like jerks.  All of these behaviors have relegated me to a life of mediocrity - a wannabe who lacks the zeal or discipline to make it into one of the more competitive classes.  On the upside, because my status is safely on the fringe of the hardcore asshole, I feel a tiny, little sense of superiority. 

What?  Does that make me an asshole?