Monday, July 16, 2012

The attention-whore's little brother, the perpetual frat boy

Bet you didn't know she had a sibling.  Oh but she does, and we tend to suffer him gladly because he's so damned funny.  We all know at least one, and if we are lucky, several. You know him, he's the guy at the party with the 25 year old concert tee, battered jeans, and flip flops.  The party where the rest of us are dressed in business casual.  Yet, nobody bats an eye.  Why?  Because he came in singing at the top of his lungs and invited us all to join in.  Yes, "Margaritaville" is catchy and we all know the lyrics, so why not?  Maybe because it's someone's 85th birthday party and we are at a fancy restaurant???  Ah, that's ok, someone will inevitably say, while some of the older folks are fidgeting and scanning the room for the level of responses to Mr. Delta Gamma Phi.
He's great to have around at the ballpark, cheering louder than anyone around you, rousing the crowd in support of the home team.  Shouting loudly and sometimes incoherently because he's already had a six pack on the way there.  But, bless his heart, he's the first to make a beer run for the whole row. Gotta love that! So what if he sloshes some on you as he climbs over your chair?  He happily pays for the round, how can you complain? And you don't. You grab that beer, toast to him and the whole stadium, and chug it down.
His drunken antics are the life of every baseball game, BBQ, birthday party, and holiday soiree.  Everyone knows him by name, even those who've never met him before.  He dances with all the women and enters into a bromance with all the men.  By the end of the night, you've become friends for life.  How the hell does he do this?  He's never grown up.  Peter Pan has nothing on this guy. Sure, he has a steady job, probably a wife and a couple of kids.  All the prerequisites for acceptance into "real" adulthood.  Yet, he is the first one at the party and the last to leave.  He drinks even the proclaimed wooden legs right under the table and keeps on dancing. Dancing and dancing, stealing smooches from each person he passes...smooth devil.
Do we all quietly worry about him?  Of course we do.  Have we all driven him home on several occasions because his B.A.C. was through the roof?  You know you have, and you'd do it again for this lovable dumbass.  Everyone agrees that an intervention is necessary, but nobody steps up to the plate. Why, you ask?  Well, duh, who wants to be a buzzkill?
Taking him down off the throne would throw a serious wrench into everyone's fun, and you know it would.  Who else could get an entire section of a baseball stadium to join him in a sing-along?  Who else would start a conga line leaving a church?  Who could get the priest to join in that conga line???  He gets the wallflowers to dance and the quiet ones laughing.  He tells your grandma dirty jokes, and she LIKES it!  I, for one, am not gonna ruin the fun.  Nope, I'll just keep watering down his drinks at the end of the night and driving his pickled ass home.  His antics are the stuff the YouTube was created for and what makes him the life of every occasion.
Will I throw a shot back with this dude?  Uh yeah, are you friggin kidding me right now???

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