Before I begin, I must give credit to the source of my inspiration: Marissa. Marissa is a friend who attended Emerson College with me. She started her own web 'zine. www.bucketmag.com. I was perusing it today and found a piece about Wolf Boys.
When I saw this, I stopped my browing immediately and focused on the Wolf Boy exegesis. Hungry Like the Wolf started playing in my head - and still is. I was interested. I was invested. I know some Wolf Boys. And I had to see if what the article said was true.
Thus, what follows is a detailed Wolf Boy analysis. I have taken the primary points in the article, and compared those points to the Wolf Boys I have encountered personally. Thus, I put together my own Wolf Boy composite. For narrative purposes, I will call this composite "Bob". What follows is a step-by-step process to determine the validity of the Wolf Boy stereotype as promulgated by the author.
Always strong, the stench of wolf envelops those who pass within a four-foot range of the Wolf Boy. My Wolf Boy at work chose a cologne of the urine odor variety, but many others opt for simple, designer imposter musk.
Okay. Bob does not smell like urine OR designer imposter musk. I tend not to go around sniffing others (I attempt to act like a human, and not a canine - when possible). However, if Bob could be assigned a smell, it would be a heady mix of cigarettes and incense - an essence I tend to enjoy, and one that doesn't require the voiding of a bladder.
If a Wolf Boy, for some unearthly reason, has cut their mane short (balding, dress codes, and accidents while cooking are just some of the reasons why this would occur), they almost always appear in public wearing a shirt, usually black, depicting a painting of their spirit animal.
This, obviously, must be addressed in two parts. (1) I hate to admit it, but Bob did at one point have long hair. The mane. And it was scary. (2) Doesn't everyone usually appear in public wearing a shirt? Though Bob does have a few black shirts, only one is ALL black. Also, I've never seen Bob wear a shirt with his power animal on it. He sticks to fading t-shirts with dumb bands on them, or Calvin Klein. Oh, and Bob showers regularly. Bob is very well groomed. And when I say groomed, I do not mean that his wolfy brethren lick him back at the den. Though if they did, I may be apt to watch.
His cubicle allowed room for artistic expression, which Wolf Boy eagerly adorned with photographs of other fellow members of the order of the wolf, as well as with pictures of wolves themselves.
Bob is way cooler. No wolf pictures. Just blacklight posters.
There are two main categories of Wolf Boy when it comes to socializing: those who are loud, and those who are quiet.
There are generally two categories of people as a whole: those who are loud and those who are quiet. I'm not sure that this relates to Wolf Boys in particular.
Many wolf lovers celebrate their love of the moon through Goth clubs, Wiccan or pagan festivals, and magik (always with a K).
Yes! At last. Another magik-hater. Yes, it's true. Bob does frequent goth clubs, but only for the dollar drinks. Bob also likes spiritually-based activities. But he doesn't paint the Japenese symbol of the wolf on his forehead, and he doesn't do the whiteface thing, nor does he sport a cape to any sort of social event. No nipple clamps, either. At least not that I've seen. But I'll check on that and get back to you.
His only other method of enticing women- scotch. Oftentimes he could go on for upwards of twenty minutes about blends of his favorite beverage...
Bob likes scotch. But he's never used it as a means to seduce me or get me into bed. Except for that one time. Oh wait, no. I used scotch to try to seduce Bob. And it didn't work. Bastard.
And thus ends my Bob/Wolf Boy analysis.
Finding: Like all stereotypes, this one just doesn't hold water. So I'll keep my Wolf Boys to myself. And the author of that piece will never know what she's missing.
