AT THE GYM
“ I haven’t lifted/ran/played in so long…”
Ah, the preemptive disclaimer for shitty performance. We’ve all played defense against Mr. Excuses in a pickup game, or spotted him on a bench. He then expects you to admit the same, and agree to go easy. Fuck that noise. I like to hit him with a “Not me, bro, I’ve been training for this Frat League flag football game my entire life!” and then bark in his face. People like me.
AT THE PREGAME
“I can’t even drink vodka anymore…”
How sophisticated! “Step aside, you artless simpletons, I only imbibe the finest of Fireball Cinnamon.” It’s a weird phenomenon that I’ve noticed post-grad; a bro’s feeble attempt to seem manly and mature because he gets shitfaced off a dark beverage instead of a clear one. The same guy who drops this bullshit is later Instagramming with Drake lyric hashtags. You’re on that next level, bro. Wanna be mature? Get plastered off Pinot and pass out at 9:30 like my Dad.
AFTER THE NIGHT
“He really hooked it up…”
No, no he didn’t. Just because some sleazebag promoter comped you a $25 bottle of Stoli after you forked over two grand does not mean you’ve beaten the system. Bros love to inform other bros that they “know a guy” to elicit some air of elitism. Whether you’re namedropping the bartender who gives you free shots or your Dad’s uncle’s friend with the sweet internship, I don’t give a fuck unless I’m directly benefitting within the hour. One time a cab driver turned off the meter during the last 20 feet of the ride because there was a lot of traffic. When we got out, my friend commented, “Wow, he really hooked that up.” YOU CAN’T HOOK UP A TAXI, BRO!!
AFTER WATCHING THE GAME
“We kicked your ass last night…”
This one doesn’t apply just to bros, but to every sports spectator short of curling enthusiasts. WE didn’t do anything. Some genetic freaks with outrageous salaries won a game; you sat on your couch and updated your fantasy roster. I’m not a big sports guy but I’ve never seen a press conference where Carmelo shouted-out ‘Derek Weissman from Plainview, cause without him betting the under, I wouldn’t have had the motivation to get that W’. Shit, I don’t even think J.R. Smith can say “We.”
CHECKING OUT CHICKS
“Would you hit it?”
Of course you would. It might not be number one on your to-do list, but if she offered you dome in the Panera Bread parking lot, you’re getting your dick wet before that Broccoli and Cheddar bread bowl. Okay, so “Would you hit?” can be a fairly entertaining discussion, but let’s face it- having someone else do it for you beats pants around your ankles and RedTube nine times out of ten. I bet you’re still thinking about the bread bowl. So delicious…
That wraps it up for me. Got any other bro-isms you wanna put to rest? Disagree with me and think doing shots of Jameson instead of Goose is the ultimate signifier of masculine gourmet? Leave your thoughts in the comments section!
[Image via LATJ]