As evidenced by a quick scroll through the typical Facebook feed, some people go apeshit for personality tests. There's the standard who-am-I fare—IQ tests, Myers-Briggs quiz results—and then there's the stuff that's a little less obvious. In addition to finding out which Freaks and Geeks character you are, you can also be categorized as one of four distinctive styles of drunk, for instance.
And now, researchers are saying that the way that you eat a slice of pizza can be used to identify your essential personality qualities.
But wait, you may ask yourself. How many different ways to eat a slice of pizza can there be, anyway? Four. The answer is four.
At the forefront of this groundbreaking pizza research is Patti Wood, the "Gold Standard of Body Language Experts" (as dubbed by the Washington Post). Wood is a human behavior expert who teaches at Emory University, and she has previously distilled the insurmountable nuance of human character to four archetypes using the ways that women tend to put on their bras. Are you a driver, an influencer, a supporter, or a careful corrector? Well, that all depends on whether you like to latch your undergarments in the front or the back.
She's the type of expert tabloids consult to determine whether Katie Holmes's red-carpet body language indicates that she's on the brink of suicide. Take, for example, this recent tweet:
But back to the pizza, please.
According to Wood, "everything you do—and the way you do it—comes together to form a story about yourself," and that includes scarfing down a dollar slice. The adherence to four behavior traits, specifically, is based on the DISC theory of American psychologist William Moulton Marston, which focuses on dominance, inducement, submission, and compliance. Cosmopolitan asked Wood to apply this critical approach to the action of pizza-eating.
Do you fold your pizza in half before biting in? (Possible skew: this is usually more necessary for slice-seekers in New York than in cities where thicker crusts are valued.) You're a "driver." This designation means that you're a serious multi-tasker who does not stop to savor the freshness of the basil atop your Margherita, nor the golden crunch of the crust. You are jackhammering this piece of pizza into your maw for maximum efficiency. But don't worry, you're also adventurous and willing to take risks! This also makes you bore easily. Despite your take-charge attitude, you sound like someone who is not very fun to sleep with.
On to people who "eat the crust first." First of all, do these people exist? Who the hell is able to resist the grease-heavy, cheese-oozing, triangular tip of a slice in favor of the dry, brown back end? Whatever. Apparently, people do this, according to the study, and those people are "influencers" who "like to be dramatic, often talk loudly, and love getting attention through [their] actions." (But if crust-forward people are so influential, why aren't others following suit? Highly sus claim.)
Then, there are those who wish to dig in with a fork and knife. While this seems more characteristic of Victorian wives who are worried about sullying their white lace gloves, Wood argues that this type of person is a "supporter." Supporters are loyal, reliable, and resilient, and make great party hosts because of their desire to please others. They are "system-oriented," so they're happy to chill and consume bite by bite rather than greedily stuff their faces without a moment's concern for the needs of other people at the table. Dine with supporters, and you can likely take advantage of their unwillingness to take the last slice in the name of politeness.
Finally, there are those who "just bite it." These individuals—possibly the only normal people out of all of the archetypes mentioned above—are "careful correctors." No no, they're not just hungry plebes who are eating pizza the way that it was designed to be eaten. They are perfectionists who "like to go with what [they] know works so [they're] certain to get it right every time." The question remains: how can one not "get it right" when eating pizza by biting into it?
Sure, Patti. Whatever you say. Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to go "carefully correct" the hell out of some salty, greasy, mozzarella-topped heaven.