The Nose Knows

I recently read an article about the five things women immediately notice about a man. The first three were confidence, demeanor, and dress, to which I openly responded, “Bowshit, bowshit, and bowshit.” Then I scrolled down to find that the fourth one was “hands,” and I thought, “Now we’re getting somewhere.” (The fifth one, to all of you OCD nut jobs out there, was physique. Feel better? Xanny up.)

 

Personality traits mean absolutely nothing to me in the first two minutes of being introduced to someone. We both know that I just want a free drink and you’re trying to be incognito in checking out my boobs, so why would I even worry my pretty little head about your behavior? This isn’t a third grade parent teacher conference.

 

What do I notice right off the bat? Noses. No hesitation. I can tell a whole heck of a lot about you by your shnoz, deducing much about your character strictly based on the placement of your nostrils. My friends will ask me my opinion of a guy based on his clothes, but it is in the man-snout that I can really determine if I approve. Let me break it down for you right quick:

 

Pointy-beaky – You’re a fun guy when you want to be, but only when you want to be. In other words, you are uptight and would have rather stayed in to study for the LSAT or catch up on last week’s Criminal Minds but your friends dragged you to the bar. I can already tell that after two more Michelob Ultra’s you’re going to become extremely douchey and probably try to criticize my outfit in an attempt to vilify my confidence and get me to go home with you, but tough cookies T.J. Detweiler; this isn’t recess and I’m nowhere near stupid enough to play those games. All signs point to you being an asshole, and by “signs” I mean your NOSE.

 

Lil Christmas Bulb – There’s a lot of personality in that round nasal ornament, and I like it. You don’t think you’re very attractive, and I can’t tell if I find you attractive because of your adorable bashfulness, or because you really are just good-looking. Whatever the case may be, you’re intelligent but shy, which is fun in the moment but if I can’t break you after fifteen minutes (I’m patient if a cute boy is at stake, and only then), peace out girl scout. You have the charm a-brewin’ at the tip of your beak, but if you don’t know what to do with it then you might as well be Voldemort.  

 

Somewhat Whoville – You are silly and fun and the life of the party, which is so great when we’re all in a group having a blasty blast for one night. But you’re like this all the time. ALL THE TIME. How much coke does one have to do to keep this up? I am intrigued by your genuine friendliness and effortless wisecracks, but I have a sneaking suspicion you’re 27 years old living off of your dad’s paycheck and that you see absolutely nothing wrong with it. If that flag was any redder we’d have to slip it a Midol. Welcome, welcome fahoo ramus / Welcome, welcome get a job-mus.   

 

Manly & Prominent – Gets me every time. You are my weakness, and the Grecian presence in the middle of your face has swooned me into believing anything you say and doing anything you want me to do. There’s something about a big honker that says, “I have my life together” and “I’ll take you out to dinner, wherever you want, yes of course we can go to Sonic,” and for some reason that just makes me feel inexplicably wonderful.  

 

There are, of course, combo meals with all of these. I may not realize a Prominent Beaky dude is as big of a jerk as he is until the second date when he asks what my dad does for a living in an effort to determine our financial compatibility (this has actually happened). A Whoville Bulb, while extremely holiday-spirited, is just too big of an emotional basket case for me to handle. In all honesty, I won’t be truly happy until Justin Timberlake is mine, so while I work out the logistics of ruining a new marriage, feel free to reread the above analyses and apply them to your next social interaction. Who knew noses could be such a relationship time-saver? You’re welcome.