Guys Against The World

I do not remember the last time I got a request from someone to write an article; but sometime back circa two weeks ago; this chap texts me and is livid about a new breed of ladies. He curses their existence and is not polite about it; I really want to know what a woman could do that was so bad it would incense a guy to the point of leaving his beer half drank. It did not take much coaxing; it never does; anger is like unattended boiling milk; it will be fine one minute and the next it will overflow.

So the issue here is that there are ladies; they dress up. They paint their lips red, splash some beautiful perfume then bombard guys with texts looking for plot. This happens sometime between a Friday evening and a Saturday afternoon. These are ladies who are not even in that tight with you or the crew; just some lass out to have some fun and impose themselves on generally good natured fun having gents.

Now these ladies once in with the crew they show up; sit pretty perched on the bar stools like disillusioned flamingoes; take out their phones and while away their time engrossed in some group chat. They will not drink, smoke, dance or do anything for that matter. Occasionally they will look up their phones to see if the guys around the table still exist; their conversations are bland; tasting like marinated cardboard pieces and the only thing bright about them is the flash of their front facing cameras when they pout and take a selfie. You would be forced to think that their idea of fun is reading the Mein Kampf.

As a guy I strongly believe that anyone has the right to do whatever they want when they go out. This means you can drink three liters of guarana like a thirsty duck or sip Fanta chased by apple juice while smiling with the deejay for all I care. You can be on the couches judging people by the color of their weaves and trying to figure out what pair of people is dating by looking at their body language. It is a free world; well at least that is what they make it seem but recent food prices tend to disagree.

However, if you decide to impose yourself on other people’s plans, leave your nasty attitude at home or at least in the back seat of the Uber that brought you along. There’s only so much you can impose and only so much your host can take. Nights out that tend to look like a hostage situation are not fun. You cannot hold people at ransom with your bored whims; smiling into your phone at some non-existent entity and think it is okay. You cannot have your host thinking they are boring when you are clearly the problem.

Ladies listen; to a guy; nothing is more sacred than his time with the boys. We can debate about this all day if you want; you can fast about it, consult the oracles, do the rain dance and even start a Wikipedia page. But the fact remains; that time is sacred. The guys are an escape, we are a safe space. We are where decorum stays outside and a man is allowed to explore his manliness. Here a man can talk about his feelings without actually talking about his feelings. We won’t cause a fuss about a guy because his socks stink; we don’t really care. We won’t care whether he earns 25,000 or 250,000 and if his suit is really imported from Italy. We won’t ask whether he has eaten or if it’s not too cold and that he should wear a sweater. No; he is a man. If he chooses to die by the cold then he will die by the cold. We give him that honor.

Also we won’t bother the guys with how our day was. We won’t bring up Irene from HR and how loud her heels are. Okay she might come up but we won’t be talking about her heels. We won’t mention Sam form IT or Frank from finance unless they are joining us. We will talk about why Wenger needs to leave and why Chelsea winning the EPL means the world is about to end. We will discuss the dynamics of the animal kingdom in passing as we watch a cheetah chase down a baby giraffe on National Geographic. We will down copious amounts of beer, rum, vodka or whisky and ogle at passing cars with lustrous eyes.  Guys love nothing more than a sexy car. I don’t know what you’ve heard but that’s the truth.

So when a person insists on tagging along, begs to be part of the adventure; they are expected to assimilate the environment. If we are taking selfies; they take selfies. If we are taking shots; then they are taking shots. Simple. It beats the purpose of dressing up, leaving the house and act like what you joined was a chat group. Guys, we; do not take to that lightly.

This phenomenon of Chat Room Company started a while ago when the first ladies to insist on joining the guys were the girlfriends. The ones that wanted to keep an eye on things. The pioneers of this treacherous habit. The ones who stifled the fun for everyone else by asking stupid questions like “will you guys finish that” or careless statement like “It’s getting late”.  They are the ones who graduated from wanting to join their boyfriends at the mechanics on some insecure whims that they would go out and cheat. With what though? ATF? Engine Coolant? That sexy spanner in the toolbox?

Then it spread like wildfire. It has become some sort of Holy Grail for a lady to hang with the guys. But the bad news is not everyone deserveth this Holy Grail. Some of you deserve the plastic sippy cups and a pacifier, an attitude adjustment and new definition of the word fun.

I am not even trying to be mean but come on. We understand there’s the initial shyness that you might need to overcome. Or the culture shock of hearing so many cuss words come out of one mouth directed at another as a greeting. But you are only allowed the space between the first and the third beer to adjust. Anything after that becomes antisocial and you become a disease and are making everyone uneasy.

When you do that, you have taken a trust betrothed upon you by the brother hood and used it to blow your nose like some second generation blue toilet paper. You have desecrated the shrine of the mans and offended the alcohol gods. We will have to sacrifice 5 kilograms of grilled pork dry fry for 21 days and appease the spirits with whisky every fortnight just to get rid of the curse you have befallen upon us.

Basically what I am saying in so many useless words is you do not have to be a part of a guy hangout if you are not a guy. Stay at home and do something you love. Read a book, follow Kim Kardashian on IG, and go out with the girls or even alone. Just do not force yourself on us. Do not come with your attitude packed in foil paper and serve it fresh. Do not insinuate that you are been left out on purpose; you are actually been left out on purpose. Do not frown, pout or flatter your eyes repeatedly in an attempt to win over our good graces. Do not think we think sitting there looking pretty on your phone is sophisticated. Do not bore us with it’s getting late and other singles of that boring album.

Bottom line is we do not want you there; do not be there.

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