Frat Boys Epitomize the Word Douche
written April 4, 2008
Frat recruitment must really be scraping from the bottom of the barrel lately. As if joining a frat isn't enough to convince the world that you're a complete scumbag, you can always remove all doubt by shoving a girl to the ground and getting kicked out of a bar.
I went to a bar a while back with some family. Out of nowhere this team of jackals decides to try and pick a fight with me and my cousin. I honestly can't blame them, because they appeared to be afflicted with rampant diseases commonly known as "Guido" and "Tough Guy." (Obvious symptoms include large amounts of hair gel, excessive use of the word "bro," and an accompanying skank who wears whorish clothes and too much makeup as misdirection for the fact that she's with a Sopranos wannabe.) I'm not 100% sure as to why this all started, but I'm sure my cousin did something deplorable like look at them wrong, or worse, failed to spread her legs on command.
The funniest thing about this entirely unwarranted ordeal was that one guy kept referring to her as my girlfriend. Group dynamics strongly implied he was considered by his fellow douches as the Head Guido. I wanted to correct him by pointing out that she was actually my cousin, but I knew that anything close to reason would make more steam come out of that giant meathead he was sporting, so I just bit my tongue. The more he called her my girlfriend, the harder I had to try not to laugh. He kept saying it more and more, which made me smile bigger and bigger, resulting in him getting angrier and angrier. It was a vicious cycle.
I tried to interrupt the pattern by asking him why he was so pissed off. He angrily replied, "Because I'm not creative enough to find another outlet for my insecurities, like say, an articulate and insightful website. But mostly because I'm a fucking tool." At least that's what I heard. But my inquiry just escalated into a shoving match between him and my beloved cousin. The first time he touched her I stepped between them, but then I vaguely recalled that getting locked up for a barroom brawl is not conducive to keeping your scholarship to law school. With that in mind, my quick thinking lent me this little gem to reestablish the peace: "You might want to be careful what you do to her, she knows karate."
A hush fell over the crowd. The ball was in his court. Was he going to call my bluff, or was he going to scamper away like a dog with his tail between his legs? I chuckled to myself as I realized that such statements only serve to reaffirm my identity as a useless tool. Dejected, I stepped aside, at which point he shoved my cousin to the ground and was promptly ejected by the already incensed crowd of onlookers and bouncers. I wouldn't be surprised if his shit-stabbing friends gave him a congratulatory pat on the back for pushing her either. After all, and I'm not making this up, picking fights with girls is a surefire way to assert machismo. At least that's what I read in the latest issue of "Gangstas4Lyfe."
I realize I seem a bit effeminate for not nailing this clown in the face. In hindsight though I think I did the right thing. First off I would have been risking a full out fight, (outnumbered by his entire sorority... er, fraternity) with the inherent possibility of cops, jail, and losing my scholarship. But even worse, I would have been stooping to their level, and that is about as degrading as you can get. Witnessing their display of drunken dick swinging served only to reaffirm my understanding of why frat boys have no option but to pay for their friends.
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