This photo of the four remaining couples at a dance marathon was taken circa 1930, in Chicago. Can you spot the alpha?
Right off the bat, it’s not the two fine mate guarding gentlebetas hugging their dance partners from behind. Too protective, and they look like they’re delivering the Heimlich maneuver. If one of those guys instead had his hand cupped over a breast, kneading slowly and deliberately, he’d vault into alpha male consideration.
Number 7 is hovercrotching, a distant cousin to hoverhanding. I know you’re tired, man, but NEVER STOP GRINDING. Also, that pose is Lubio-level GAY.
But number 15 (or 51), he’s our leading alpha male contender. Passed out, from exhaustion or drink? Who cares! Normally it’s easy to be a ZFG alpha while asleep, but this dude is literally off his feet and his Children of the Corn woman is holding him up. That’s how you know a man is alpha; his girl enables his lack of commitment.
Truly, though, the real alpha male in this scene is the guy in the background refusing to participate in the spectacle.
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Bonus Spot the Alpha, Ye Olde European Bounder Edition:
This one was primarily included for entertainment purposes, and to remind the sarcastic, Game-hater Poosy Pedestalizers pulling the “durr you’re teaching muh dik to White men” gambit that the fine art of wily seduction has been a storied part of White European history since at least Ovid.
The answer is obvious: The alpha is The Trumpening, front and center. That’s ¡Yeb! in the background, sulking and fiddling with his pocket turtles.
The woman, ofc, is Megyn Kelly, her billowy dress concealing the snail trail she’s leaving on the chair.