post by:DAN SCOTTI
There’s an old expression tossed around from one group of guy friends to the next. It’s vague; it’s brash. It’s slightly degrading, albeit the rhyme scheme is sort of posh. It goes something like, “bros before hoes.” It also couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ll show you why.
All right, let’s say you’re in the club. For the purpose of our discussion – let’s say it’s Finale. You left the crib with a couple of your pirates – your homies – in search of a good night out.
You threw on some fresh fits – since you’ve heard in order to feel good, you’ve got to look good – and even did up your hair.
You spend most of your night walking around, more or less aimlessly, looking for attractive women. By the time you finally find some, you suddenly remember you’re a coward, and are too shy to actually approach any attractive women. Ferk.
Suddenly, lo and behold, like a bolt from the blue, a slim little beauty materializes from the depths of the bar and presents herself to YOU – even striking up some lackluster conversation in the process. I know, right, will wonders ever cease? Okay, let’s call her Rebecca.
So you run with it, and I mean the Forrest Gump galloping out of his leg braces caliber of “running with it.” Drinks – you buy ‘em. Lies? Lord knows you tell them. Like a page out of Jean Paul Sartre’s “Dirty Hands,” you’re in pursuit of this chick by any means necessary.
By the time you check the watch on your wrist, it’s 3 am, and you’ve somehow managed to keep Rebecca hanging on your arm – and potentially tied around your finger, so to speak.
You can tell, with a great deal of pride (and even more amazement), that she’s just about ready to sign on the dotted line, you know, for the nightcap.
You tell her to, “stay right here,” while you attempt to go find your group of friends who you rolled up with, and let them know the deal — aka, yes, you’re the man.
After about 10 steps, you turn around and try to wink at Rebecca, but quickly realize she’s no longer looking in your direction – so you pretend it never happened, and hope to God she didn’t catch your efforts in her peripherals.
When you finally reunite with your homies – they’re all f*cking miserable. One of them looks like Dexter, fresh off a night spent in the “kill room,” with red stains spattered across his shirt like a cranberry-Rorschach test. Your other boy hasn’t stopped bitching over how badly he needs a cigarette. Another of them is currently off to the side, throwing up overpriced vodka in the umbrella basket.
All you can think to yourself is: Man, I’m glad I ain’t going home with THESE guys tonight. It’s always awkward being the only dude in your group of friends to hook up with a chick.
It’s no different than eating a few slices of pizza in front of your friends while they’re all equally as hungry. So, you try to think of a way to break the news to them gently.
Aight, boys. I’m going home with this chick. I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow. We’ll watch football. J
That’s when sh*t goes down.
Friend 1: “You mean… you’re not chilling?” Bastard!!
Friend 2: “So you’re ditching us?” *nice one #thumbs up
Friend 3 (who miraculously pulls his head out of the umbrella bin before wiping his mouth with his sleeve): “Dude. Bros before hoes.”
*Cue dramatic music*
And this is where I’ll offer my analysis on the situation.
Unless any of your homies are in immediate danger, critical condition or any other scenario involving urgent care – why would a young, strapping male EVER pick a bro over some intimate time with a female?
Remember Herman Edwards’ epic post-game rant? The one where he’s all flustered reiterating something like, “HELLO. You PLAY to win the GAME.”
Yeah, well, for any young bachelor in the game of dating – HELLO. You GO OUT to GET WITH GIRLS. Am I right? Not hold hands with your boys the duration of the evening, praying that you don’t get separated for all of eternity. That’s just ridiculous.
If your “bros” truly felt offended you “chose” a girl over them; they probably aren’t true friends. That, or they’re just acting selfish or jealous. Either way, don’t pass up a chance with a girl, as if you owe them your time. Do you, dog.
I can think of a million reasons you should always try to please women first, as opposed to your boys, but I think just one would suffice here. YOU CAN HAVE SEX WITH WOMEN. Your boys? Not so much. Unless you prefer men, which kind of removes you from the discussion since “bros before hoes” is sort of just a given.
For the rest of us, opportunities with women are, at times, few and far between – you can’t squander them. Especially not to just sit around with your boys. Perhaps if your boy’s crib had exotic dancers and a cockfighting circuit waiting for you, then, maybe, opting for your bros over a chick would be the operative move.
We know that’s not likely though. Your friends, and most groups of post-grad friends, are boring. The “bros” route will likely lead you to his apartment, where you’ll sit around, smoke joints and play FIFA while you all talk about the girls you don’t have.