Dude Brahs on a Ferry

For anyone that knows me in real life, mockery of “dude brahs” should be a very familiar subject. For the two new readers that just randomly came across this blog, “dude brahs” are those guys who never really got past their awful idiot frat guy stage.  As in, popped collar with a goofy haircut that requires far too much product, talking loudly on their cell phone, saying things like, “Dude, brah.  I’ll be there in 20.” 

Dude brahs rarely fail to absolutely make my day. Not only are they generally oblivious to how ridiculous they look/act, but they also tend to blunder through life in spectacular fashion.

Last night, I encountered three dude brahs that not only made my evening, but were so spectacular that they inspired me to write a blog post.

First, a picture.

When I first saw these three, I thought, “I wonder where they are going?  Maybe a big event in Seattle?” Then my friend Justin laughed and said, “No, they are totally planning on going into Seattle to get some action.”

Not wanting to judge too quickly (I know, unusual for me since I am a big-time judge-r), I decided to find a seat next to them on the ferry in order to find out if I was right or if Justin was right.

Within minutes of leaving the ferry terminal, it became painfully apparent that not only had Justin’s assessment been correct, but it was dead-on. Phrases like, “I’m going to go awesome myself up,” and “Red Bull and vodka is pretty much the best drink,” were uttered. A game plan was formed: “Tell you what, let’s hang around a bar near the ferry terminal and I’ll call some girls to see what’s up.” Contingency plans were considered: “So, like, do we want to get, like, two rooms or just one and, like, if one of us scores we just let the other guys know?” (I really wish that I were lying about any of this.)

They were in constant contact with their fellow dude brahs around the Sound: “Martens said that he just got approached by a guy who wanted to punch him in the face.” “Yeah, I’d love to see them try,” (insert fist bump here). Finally, a few words of caution were uttered: “Hey, as long as it’s not a Navy girl, you’re fine.”

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, another night-in-the-towner approached them and gave them some advice.  As a native to the Seattle area with an intimate knowledge of the nightlife scene, she told them what bars and clubs their attire would be best received in.  I believe the words she used were something akin to, “Yeah, that place has, like, plenty of girls (or guys) and dancing and stuff.  They’ll be all like, ‘Oh, you’re wearing some fancy suits!’ and you can be all, ‘Yeah, let’s dance,’ or something.” 

This brief encounter really made me question how we, as a species, have survived as long as we have.  Better yet, I wonder whether or not to believe that humans were able to actually beat out another species for survival.  I mean, how stupid did the Neanderthals have to be in order for early homo sapiens to beat them out in the race for survival?