Jeff Burkhart: Welcome to the jungle

The lion walked into the modern-day oasis without a care in the world. If an oasis is defined as a place of respite with abundant food and drink, then there really was no other description possible, never mind the wood paneling and red Naugahyde.

Gathered in that oasis were various groups: three or four women over there; two or three men over there; and various mixed pods here and there. In the animal kingdom, it’s all about display. Rarely do animals actually fight. It’s not effective from a purely cost-benefit analysis. The entering lion seemed to recognize this fact, because he studiously avoided any group with any men in it.

Lions are known for their luxuriant manes, and in this he was no exception. His long flowing hair signaled virility, and his alpha-ness was evident in his walk — really more of a strut. No peacock anywhere had anything on him — except for maybe the lack of a bald spot.

He walked right by three women covered in animal spots: a shawl there, a high heel there, even a chemise. But, not only did the spotted group not seem to notice, they seemed to especially not notice. Which begs the question: If it’s only the alpha who thinks it’s an alpha, is it really an alpha? A question for the theorists.

Nonplussed, the lion took a seat near the very source of refreshment. He leaned back and propped himself up on two elbows facing out — a pose which in itself posed significant problems for the delivery of that refreshment.

But he wasn’t there to slake his thirst, at least not the kind of thirst satisfied by liquids. If one were an expert in both behavior and liquids, one would know that. They say it takes 10,000 hours of study to become an expert on something. Well, 10,000 hours is roughly equivalent to about five and a half years of full-time employment. So arguably there was at least one expert observing — maybe two or three or four. Teeming oases attract both the serviced and those servicing.

Display is always looking for response. In fact, display is entirely ineffective and useless without it. For every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction is a well-run retread of physics. But in the “psy” arts, such as psychology, this is not always true. Case in point, our lion. No amount of loosened shirt buttons, large wristwatches and cologne were going to change that.

The rewards of mating must outweigh the downsides, animal behaviorists will tell you. And most animals use their own judgement to determine this. There is a well-worn trope on social media saying that animals would never let the dumbest among them lead the pack. But the truth is, they often do — at least until the pack is wiped out. And then another pack takes its place. Or a different pack. Ecological niches are always filled. Always.

If there is anything DNA testing and genetics has taught us, it’s that often our assumptions about how things have always worked are wrong. Just ask the winemakers in Chile who had to rename their supposedly Bordeaux-derived merlots carménère, which ironically was then further discovered to have been an original Bordeaux varietal (not one of the big five, but a sixth). True science is never static, it is heterodox, the direct opposite of orthodox.

Eventually, another type of display was made by the lion, one demonstrating the ability to provide. Those unsolicited beverages were thoroughly rebuffed by one group of lionesses. Often times it’s exactly an ability to provide that attracts a mate. Maybe not the right kind of mate, but a mate nonetheless. Again, it’s always that cost-benefit analysis.

But if one group was unreceptive, there were always others. Spreading their DNA around is the polite euphemism for it, but we all know what it means — and what it entails, especially if you are at the appropriate age for certain oases.

Ever notice how gazelles always seem to notice when the lion isn’t hungry? Well, so do the lionesses, even if the hungers are different. And these lionesses were keeping their distance — all except for one.

In the wild kingdom, animals rely on their senses. In fact, humans are the only animals that will deliberately dull theirs.

One lioness with deliberately dulled senses soon strutted by the elbow-leaning lion, her animal-spotted heels clicking on the marble floor. She was every bit his equal in unbuttoned shirtness, expensive wristwear and cologne.

And that lion never stood a chance.

Leaving me with these thoughts:

• All big cats have some sort of spots. Yes, even mountain lions.

• Five and a half years? That seems like child’s play.

• Do tigers find a lion’s appearance ridiculous? Or vice versa?

• Evolution is as much an accident as it is on purpose.

Jeff Burkhart is the author of “Twenty Years Behind Bars: The Spirited Adventures of a Real Bartender, Vol. I and II,” the host of the Barfly Podcast on iTunes (as seen in the NY Times) and an award-winning bartender at a local restaurant. Follow him at jeffburkhart.net and contact him at jeffbarflyIJ@outlook.com