An Open Letter to “That Guy”

Dear “That Guy”,

By Melanie

Your ability to drink in excess and ruin 95% of pictures taken at parties gets me hot and bothered. I think it’s uhh… adorable that you maintain your appearance to the point where I question your sexual orientation. I guess I respect the fact that you tweeze, bleach and pluck more than me. The fact that you care about your “fresh kicks getting smudged” more than your future or GPA is super sexy…?

Babe, what happened to you? Before you became “that guy” you were once “just one of the guys.” You were playing Madden instead of photoshopping your Facebook pictures. You couldn’t tell Armani from Target. Your cellphone lived in your pocket instead of clipped to your ribbon belt, and for the love of God, why are you orange-r than an Oompa Loompa?! I liked you without your bromosexuality. I’m not interested in the Brody Jenners or the Gotti wannabes!

Why does your tee shirt have more sparkles on it than Limited Too’s entire Spring Collection circa 1998? These glittery numbers are worsened by being “slim fit” to show off your “killer pecs.” Maybe they work for Hulk Hogan, but they don’t work for you and they definitely don’t work in public. Do society a favor and wear clothes that fit. And if your shirt has a collar? I don’t care if you’ve been popping it ever since you can remember. Old Yeller that nonsense. Put. It. Down.

Take out your Bluetooth headset. Kudos if you use it in your car – safety first. But, that blinking blue light glued to the side of your head while you’re out and about, especially waiting in line at stores (most likely Armani Exchange or Abercrombie and Fitch), makes you look like an ultra douchebag. I am laughing at you. The store clerks are laughing at you. Humanity as a whole is laughing at you. Leave the damn thing in the glove compartment of your car.

What the hell is on your head? First, turn your hat frontwards. Backwards hats were cool for Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit. Ten years ago. Secondly, what kind of hat is it? Baseball hat? Fine. Trucker hat? Toss it out. Ashton Kutcher threw out his, and he was like the Dane Cook of the 90′s. Douche of the decade. Plus, enough with the pre-frayed brim! How do brims even get frayed in the first place? What did you do with yourself to even get a frayed brim? Walk head-on into a concrete wall multiple times? Drop it on a belt sander in shop class in high school? Jesus Christ!

Which brings me to your hair. If it’s longer than your chin, you probably need a haircut. If it’s gelled to the point where you look more like your front lawn than a dude, lose the Loreal. Shaggy is cute, spiky not so much. Also, quit it with the weird chin pubes. They’re itchy and freaky and especially way gross if they’re flesh colored a la Spencer Pratt.

Darling, I like you for you. Not your ill-fitting clothes and designer flip flops. Hell, I’ll let you continue to tell your stories about your drinking glory days once in a while, but please consider at least some of the previous advice, chill out, and leave the metrosexuality and manscaping where it belongs. On Bravo.

Lots of love,

Melanie