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The Case of the Dude-Bro

Sup Nerds.

There is a very classic and specific group of guys commonly (by me) referred to as, “Dude-Bros.” They’re guys that can’t start a sentence without the word “Dude” and refer to everybody as their “Bro.” Hence the really creative and original name. My brother likes to call the Chotches, I’ve heard numerous other names, but they are commonly observed wearing Ed Hardy, Hollister, popped collars, extremely ripped jeans, T-shirts that cost more than my weekly salary,  some bedazzling, white baseball caps that do not support a baseball team and of course…aviator sunglasses. They tan. They hang out in a group of no less than two Dude-Bros. They have secret coded words and phrases (which sound ridiculous to the outside ear) that they pass among their group, they like making each other do shots (SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS) and they love talking about how wasted they got last night. Yes, I give to you…the Dude-Bro.

Now here’s the thing about the Dude-Bro, they cannot and will not break their two Dude-Bro group minimum…even when they are on first dates. See where this is going?

So I decide to meet my Dude-Bro for dinner, and drinks afterwards (yeah first mistake on my part. You see, for the normal person, dinner and drinks means having dinner and then grabbing a beer or something at a bar afterwards where you can sit and talk. To a Dude-Bro, it means dinner then PAAAARTAY! SHOT S SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS!). So meet up for dinner. Our first encounter went a little like this:

I walk up to Dude-Bro at the resteraunt’s bar and say hello.

Woah gal I dig your style. Tights.

Oh hey, yeah thanks! How are ya?

Do you like, have to buy each leg separate? Haha I’m just kidding.

Haha, funny.

Yeah. That’s exactly what went down. So we got a table and had dinner and he asked me numerous times about what I ate because he just couldn’t understand what on earth people would eat aside from meat. He wasn’t being a dick, he just really couldn’t understand. But for the most part dinner was good.

So just as we’re finishing up, he gets a call from one of his “bros” and they exchange some kind of foreign language of words and phrases that made absolutely no sense to me and then I hear him say yeah I’m bringing a gal…score bro! And then some more rambling and then he hangs up. Not two minutes later, two Dude-Bros show up at our table and they make this big production of high fives and whatnot and then they sit down with us. My Dude-Bro introduced the others as “T-Man” and “Yoker.” Something with shortened last names. Dude-Bros always love the shortened last name.

So to my complete surprise, this twosome has now become a foursome and I am completely out of the loop of their crazy language. We left the restaurant and went to a bar down the road where they immediately ordered a round of shots. I said no thanks, that I’d just grab a beer, but then they surrounded me and kept telling me just take it gal and then started chanting GAL ! GAL! GAL! GAL! (I guess I got a nickname). So I took the stupid shot so that they’d shut up. If I would have filmed this, it could have been used in one of those bad 90s comedies centered around a ca-razzzzy high school party. So they immediately order more, and I said no thanks again, and they finally let me “sit this one out” as they did about six rounds of shots, cheering and high fiving after each one. In the 45 minutes that they did this not one of them talked to me. They were all about each other telling stupid jokes and stories about really un-interesting stuff such as what kind of car they want to get (but let’s face it, can never afford), and remembering stories from other nights where they got absolutely wasted.

HAHA, remember when AZ (yes, they have a friend named AZ) passed out at that chick’s house and then couldn’t find his car? So balls!

Yeah, me and T-Man got so wasted two nights ago that when we tried to walk home from the bar we ended up walking for a half hour in the wrong direction before we realized it. CLASSIC!

After a while of watching this and having absolutely nothing to say in the…I can’t even call it a conversation, I told the Dude-Bros that I was going to the bathroom and then ran like hell out of there and went home.

I’ve been on a number of bad dates, but I think this one is definitely in the top three worst. Now here’s the part where I usually give advice, and I really don’t think I need to here. But here it goes anyways…juuuuuuuust in case.

-Don’t invite friends on your dates

-Don’t call your date “Gal” it’s creepy. (I did ask him why he called me Gal, and he said because saying ‘what’s up giiirl’ is too gay. Hah.)

-First dates are usually used so you can get a feel for a person, not to PAAARTY.

-Drinking a lot on a first date…just not a good idea.

-Never ignore your date.

-Just don’t be a Dude-Bro. Nobody actually likes a Dude-Bro.

I know I didn’t need to say any of that, but I thought you guys would at least enjoy the story.

Hugs,

Slugs

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