Long time no write ya nerds. I’m not sorry for the blogging hiatus because I’ve been too busy picking up dudes. Yes you read that correctly, and I implore you to continue reading so I can add some heterosexual context.
Your first question for me is likely “what?”. An unimaginative, but non the less fair inquiry so I’ll be your huckleberry and answer before dying of tuberculosis. While traveling I’ve found I have an ample allotment of “James Time”. Typically this is my most favorite of times used predominantly to freestyle rap and play make believe. Much like midnight all you can eat red beans and rice or 3am $1 tacos (6 bowls and 13 tacos respectively), too much of a delicious thing can actually become sorta boring and leave you rubbing your distended belly on the couch for the next 12 hours while coming to terms with coronary artery disease. As convoluted as that last sentence was the point is sometimes I don’t want to be alone. And when I get that feeling, it’s not Marvin Gaye’s timeless cure-all that I need, it’s a bro.
Someone with whom to slam beers, hike, swap tall tales, and silently stare into a sunset wrapped in the comfort of our communal brodem. For these needs, a women just won’t do.
How does one pick up a bro though? Sadly there is no manual out there. No The Game to equip me with a pre-packaged conversation starter or closing ‘neg’ strategy. A google search of “how to make dudes like you” leads to a plethora of advice centered around delayed fellatio. This advice was not exactly applicable to my predicatment. Having been abandoned by google, I had to ford the raging river of Brotown USA all alone. There wasn’t even an Indian guide I could trade some of my thrift store clothing to in order to help me and my $1600 of ammunition across. (if you didn’t go to school as personal computers were becoming popular then you will not get the Oregon Trail references, and your life is sadder for it). It turns out that in this river, however, I’m a god damn 2008 Michael Felps (remember how awesome that was? And that? Sucks to be Italian at the 4:40 mark).
That’s right, I’m currently batting 1000 in the ball park of bros. And I’m out in the wild bromosphere in totally uncharted bro-ographies. This isn’t Dispatch’s last concert or something. These are real wild bros. Back story: In 2004 I had my first ever bro pick up while traveling to Boston for Dispatch’s last concert. Some friends and I beat a pack of college bros in a pick up game of ultimate frisbee at Harvard square the day before the concert. We then had said bros buy us alcohol and save us seats in the second row. Stellar bro pick up across all the major categories of setting, event, and favors garnished.
So that’s when I first dipped my toes into the brocean with some buddies at 17. Now I’m on my own at 26 and while my flick might be a little rusty I can still sure as hell hook a bro. (Did you notice the guys name in the last link? What a superb bro)
I have 2 primary tactics:
1) The move that never fails – Fruit and Yogurt Parfaits
For years I’ve been extolling the merits of fruit and yogurt parfaits to anyone who will listen. There is no better way to start your day, and no better way to pick up a bro (or a chick. This one is a unisex move because EVERYONE loves fruit and yogurt parfaits). I used this tactic in Nashville TN with clinical precision going through all of the standard steps of brocation, broproach, brodvance, and brocure. It went like this:
After an evening of revelry I went to bed late at the hostel in my 4 person shared room. I noticed one bed still unoccupied despite the late hour. I woke up early to find it inhabited by a man fully clothed in the fetal position with the hostel linens still folded up neatly at the foot of his bed where the staff placed them prior to arrival [brocated – bro located]. I saw him again around 11am sitting in the sun outside the hostel smoking a cig (might as well have been flying a bro-flag). My bropening line was a textbook “big night last night?” [broproach – bro approached. Also known as the ‘bropener’ in some circles]. After swapping tales I went for it (better to strike early when hunting serious bros). “Hey, I was just about to walk to Walgreen’s and grab some Greek yogurt to complete my fruit and yogurt parfait. Do you want one?” [brodvance – advance the bro situation]. Of course he did. Everyone does.
Wrapping up breakfast at 12:30 he asked “do you want to start drinking” (wow, the brogame equivalent of an UNO reverse draw two). At this point of if you are not saying “oh most definitely” then you had no place trying to pick up a bro to begin with. Over a cooler of beer and a Nalgene of gin and tonic we discuss literature, philosophy, travel, and throwing knives (true bros are well read and well rounded).
12 hours later David (because at this point he deserves a name) and I were 25% of the occupants at a bar on the outskirts of town. We found ourselves in an arm wrestling match with a hulking man called “D”. The more impressive the man the fewer letters he requires. That is why I include my middle name on Facebook. This arm wrestling move is a more advanced blue-collar brogame tactic that shouldn’t be used lightly, and doesn’t quite deserve a full break down like the parfait does. Anyways… D and I roll up our sleeves, I turn my hat around backwards, and get my ass kicked. Beyond the obvious Over The Top implication of the hat turn, I also make plenty of Ash Ketchum references in case there were any bro-nerds at the bar. The brokemon shout outs didn’t win me any bros (couldn’t hurt to try, and it entertained me at least) but the arm wresting did the trick for D and his girlfriend. We proceeded to drink drinks and laugh laughs together for the night.
David and I toured Nashville the next day, and he is planing to meet me with his boat when I get to South Dakota [brocured – bro secured]. Doesn’t this feel like the final freeze frame caption on David and my coming of age movie? A truly great brogame win.
Related Side Note: In Calgary I received the best John Bender fist pump of my life. Hamza and I were walking down the street and a homeless guy asked if we could spare any change. Without breaking stride I grabbed all the change from my pocket and dumped it in his hands. Because Canadian money is silly, they have $1 and $2 coins. So I could have given him anything from 75 cents to 14 dollars. It must have been a lot because as we walked off he took stock of the coins then shouted “where are you from?” I shouted back “Washington DC” and after a brief pause he simply gave me a huge fist pump and held it strong in the air for a few seconds. I pumped back, and walked on.
Double Side Note: What is it like for strippers in Canada? Do they just get pelted with coins when they are on stage? That’s not sexy. Maybe there is some sort of ticket system like at an amusement park? Wow, now there is a business idea. A Gentlemen’s Carnival!
2) Still bros run deep
A bro slamming beers is a dime a dozen. Don’t get me wrong, though shallow, this is still a solid bro. Star Wars parodies are a dime a dozen as well and that certainly doesn’t mean they don’t fucking rule. But this bro is more of a drinking buddy, not a bro to share your broul with (broul = bro soul). That requires a bro of some depth… that is what I advertise, and it couldn’t be easier. Here is how to do it in a few easy steps:
a) Timing: Show up to a bar at the start of happy hour.
You do this because you want the atmosphere to be lively, but not crowded. You need to guarantee yourself a stool at the bar.
b) Dress: Like you don’t give a fuck.
This doesn’t mean you dress like a GDI, but that you dress your way. It lets everyone know you are from out of town, and that you don’t care about them. I personally go with a lot of thrift store garb which in any combination guarantees a certainly level of weirdness. Weird = Intriguing. Some might call this peacocking, but that implies that this isn’t your normal attire. Wear what you’d normally wear, but make it the outfit you’d wear to a lake house labor day weekend.
c) $$$: Show your wealth
Everyone is attracted to money. Men just as much as women. Even more so perhaps. And bros above all. Remember, $$$ = rounds. So when you sit at the bar don’t act like a peasant sophomoric frat bro and order a miller light, and don’t try to be some sorta hipster and sip on a PBR. Order an IPA, or better yet something with bourbon. Better yet, order a bourbon neat. Also order some food. Raw seafood if you can swing it, but any food will do.
d) Mindset: Block out the world
Remove your conscious self from the bar. My preferred method is by writing. Get out a little notebook and start scribbling and your first bro encounter is less than 5 minutes away. You can also read a book, but this necessitates a very specific bromosphere. If it is too rowdy you are just a weirdo for reading. I pulled off a literary pick up once on this trip, but conditions were perfect. I was also reading “Old Man and the Sea” which is a high on Broprah’s Book Club list. Hemingway is one of histories top bros.
It’s that simple. Follow those steps and bros will come to you.
Timely Testimonial: I’m currently writing about tactic #2 at a restaurant in Missoula Montana. I’m supposed to meet up with a friend from elementary school here, but this ancient connection is proving to be unsurprisingly fruitless at the moment. I can’t exactly blame Nickie for ignoring my recent facebook messages since my adult life as a dork was proceeded by an equally dorky and even more sweatpants heavy adolescence when we knew each other. So I’m here quietly getting drunk with no place to sleep tonight. Until my waiter checks my ID on my 4th beer and sees that I’m from DC. Blah, blah, blah I’m crashing at his place tonight.
God I’m good. God I wish I was good at other stuff… anything else…