He sat across the table from me in a London pub, nursing a glass of red wine like a total pussy.
“Well you know, the Smiths are the best band that ever existed,” he proclaimed in between delicate sips. “Do you like the Smiths?”
I immediately recognized the weird girl test that he had just presented me. Say “no” and I would branded a total plain bagel, a normal girl who wore Ugg boots and North Face fleeces with no unique thoughts or opinions- a total, typical bore. Say “yes” and Iʼd be totally full of shit and have to deal with this kid for another 2 hours as he continued to quiz me on my music and literary tastes, not to mention the inevitable foray into politics.
“Iʼm really into Fergie right now.”
He forced a smile and held back an eye roll before refocusing his attention to the girl on my left.
God, I just miss bros.
Before moving to London, I went to a State University in upstate New York renowned for turning out gym teachers by the truck load. Every guy I met during this four year period was a total bro. They wore the cargo shorts, the football jerseys, baseball caps, and constantly talked about “fucking bitches,” and playing “mad” beer pong. A total nightmare when you are 20 and hoping to move abroad to find your European Prince, preferably one who worked in a museum.
At the time I hated them. I thought I was too good for them and their incessant sports talk. I wanted an educated and worldly man, one that read leather bond books and played guitar in the dark. I pictured myself moving to London, meeting some gentleman in tight pants who could spout out W. B. Yeats quotes like it was second nature. Weʼd fall in love instantly and throw cocktail parties in our converted loft where we would discuss current events with visiting academics and eat fancy cheese.
Imagine my surprise when I finally met these guys and realized I was a bit too bro myself. Obscure music, boring authors, uninformed political opinions, not to mention drinking wine and eating in vegetarian restaurants where they would never pay because of a severe misunderstanding of feminism. All of this and so much more comes with the “cool guy.” Three years later and Iʼm desperate for an Alpha who sleeps around and doesnʼt judge me for watching Real Housewives. Iʼm looking forward to a new future now, one where Iʼll settle for Kraft singles and BBQs in the burbs.
So what is it about Bros- why do I find myself daydreaming about Axe body spray and Nikes?
1. Bros are blunt. They never do the whole “weird girl” test on you. They donʼt give a shit what music you listen to or what books youʼve read. They arenʼt looking for a Lane Boggs, they just see you and decide whether or not they want you. They donʼt wait 5 hours before texting back, they just are who they say they are- something that is as rare as a unicorn in 2013.
2. They like Lil Wayne. They can listen to all of Weezyʼs songs for eternity and they have no problem rapping along to some of his wittier rhymes. They donʼt need to listen to the misunderstood musings of a coke head in order to have a good time, they just want to have a giggle and pretend they are paper chasers, score!
3. They pay. Bros are usually alphas. They know that feminism has nothing to do with who picks up the check at Applebees. They take a lady out, they know the score and they put down their card first. They are smart enough to realize that if they want to get anywhere they need to get old school and treat you like a princess first. Thatʼs not chauvinistic, thatʼs just duh.
4. They can win a fight. I was once hanging out with a guy who screamed when he saw a spider, I canʼt even imagine what his reaction would have been if it was a murderer instead. He probably would have used me as a human shield while he peed and pleaded in the corner.
At least bros have gotten in a scuffle or two and can take a punch, not to mention give one back. Throw some ‘roids into the mix and you know your Bro can fight off a gang if need be and thats both hot, and potentially very useful.
5. They have jobs. Scrolling through my Facebook friends and I can easily say that all the “cool” guys I know are unemployed and living off of their parents in one way, shape or form. The write a lot of blog posts about how the man holds them down, and how we live in a fascist/sexist/racist society. It takes them all day to find the perfect article to post and get upset about, trolling the internet just to stay relevant is their only hobby.
Meanwhile, Bros are out there actually working, generating income and contributing to society, hence the reason they can pay for both your meals at Applebees. At the end of the day, you can write all the poems on the working poor that you want, but until you pay taxes, I really donʼt give a shit.
A decade of dating, and countless guys later Iʼm back to where I started. The guys in the band are now boring, the ones in the bookstore, yawn, and the toads sitting with their MacBooks in Starbucks might as well be wearing girl repellent. Please, just give me a good olʼ boy with a work ethic and a love of pop music, is that too much to ask for?