In light of last week’s informative (if not nightmarish) Beatnik-spouting Stripper Caper, I decided to do a column on barroom game changers. There are the obvious visual cues that will lead to your conveniently avoiding sex with dumbasses (provided you are all decent, reasonable people). So here we go: a list of important visual dealbreakers.
Clothing with Writing on It: We’ve discussed the evils of butt writing previously, but what about men with writing across their chests? You know these bros: they can be found in mall stores snapping through plastic-bound rolodexes of aging Kid Rock posters, beneath towering t-shirt walls at Hot Topic, or strumming acoustic guitars on college campuses: whether the message is “Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck,” “Trust Me (I’m a Doctor)” “Listen to Bob Marley” or just a straight forward Family Guy quotation, these gentlemen have the emotional maturity of 12-year olds and also baby dicks.
Crocs: Unless you are gardening in a garden, a chef who must stand on his feet for twelve hours a day in a 1000 degree kitchen surrounded by molten vegetable oil and gnashing sushi knives, or a nurse who delivers the fuck out of babies with one hand and saves lives with the other, you must never wear these shoes. Never.
Face Tats/Dumb Tats: If you made a decision that bad once, you’re likely to have made a lot more of them. Is it unfair that dudes will avoid you if you got a smattering of stars on your temple? No, that’s justice. Also, joke tats are funny for approximately 4 seconds to your friends, but imagine what it’s like when a guy takes you home, peels off your jeans and discovers your giant thigh portrait of ER-era George Clooney surrounded by cherubs with Diagnosis: Handsome written in gang letters beneath. Other offenders include but are not limited to: kanji on frat boys, the Tazmanian devil, and barb wire slicked across stretch-marked biceps.
Double Popped Collar: I must repeat this list is for regular, decent people. If you’re turned on by polo ponies, crab cake breath and casual bigotry, this look might be appealing to you.
FUPAs: For the uninitiated, I am referring to the Front Upper Pussy Area (another p-word is obviously and easily swapped out for the dude version) (pee-pee). By this we mean relentlessly ill-fitting clothes. How are you going to be all the things a person wants if you cannot find pants that fit? Though these rare creatures are more often seen at bowling alleys and Universal City Walks than bars proper, I want you to be wary.
Sunglasses Inside/At Night: Maybe you’re super hung over. Maybe you sell cocaine for a living. Maybe you’re Bono. Whatever the case may be, you’re currently unfit to trick me into having sex with you and you should go home.
Hipsters: I know the hipster backlash has gotten really “uninspired” and “played-out,” but I’m not here to make easy one-liners about a much-maligned subculture that’s more or less a transparently bitter byproduct of my own guilt and self-loathing for existing on the fringes of this very subculture and waking up each morning in North Brooklyn to ride the G Train virtually indistinguishable from every other brunette with bangs in a printed dress. I’m saying: don’t fuck these people. The typical boy has coke dick and will never work a real job. The typical girl would drop four hundred trust fund dollars on Morrissey tickets and she named her fucking cat Nabokov. Avoid.
Thumb Rings [See also: Puka Shell necklaces): Whether you’re in an unsigned nu-metal band, taking archery classes at your local community college, or you just want the right douche accent to set off the tribal tats cascading down your forearm, these are a permanent “absolutely not” on dudes.
Shitty Facial Hair: Soul patches. Side burn designs. Chin straps. Anything “ironic.” All of these make you an unfit mate. I knew a guy in middle school who shaved slats into his side burns right up to where they met his mouth for a kind of ladder design on both sides of his face. He was a drummer in a “fantasy math rock” band and he lived with his mother. Ten years later, he’s still the same, ladder burns and all.
So, next time you’re approached in a bar, do a quick rundown of this list and see if it’s a good idea to let this person open his or her mouth (interpersonal/verbal dealbreakers next week). Oh, and for all you wiseguys out there thinking you can turn the tables on me (what about looking like a judgmental cunt, Elizabeth Richard?) please note that I do not count myself among decent, reasonable people and all it takes to pass the E. Richard test is being single and possession of two regularly formed ears. Okay. Even weird ears.
(Picture via Stickycomics)