That Guy

The moral of today's story? Don't be that guy. Which guy, you ask? I haven't told you yet, but I'm sure that deep down inside, you know who I'm talking about. I'm talking about the guy who wears three brightly colored polos at once with all three starch-stiff collars popped. I'm talking about the guy who chews gum obnoxiously with his mouth open. The guy who wears sunglasses indoors. That's right. I'm talking about the elusive douchebag. And unless you want to be the butt of all jokes in a bar, you don't want to be one.

Here's what happened: The guys and I went out to grab a drink at Harvard Square's own Charlie's Beer Garden. Feeling the force of nature on my bladder, I ran off to the little boy's room while the rest of them headed to the bar. I started up conversation with the guy in front of me in line, DJ, about how ridiculous that we had to wait in line for the restroom (isn't that something only girls do?). Next thing we know, the guy in the restroom walks out and back into the bar. But this wasn't just any guy. The man who walked out of that restroom was that guy. On this particular night, he was the guy who wore designer jeans and a dress shirt with the collar popped all the way up to his ears (no exaggeration) in a casual bar setting.

Naturally, DJ and I bashed the hell out of him behind his back and, as a result, became bar buddies for the night. He gave us tips on which places to check out in Boston, where to hear good live music, and we all had a good laugh whenever collar-neck walked by.

If you don't mind having everyone around you want to punch you in the face, then feel free to sport that old high school letterman jacket you couldn't bear to part with. Otherwise, lay off the Ed Hardy t-shirts. It's just embarrassing.