As we all know, bromos don’t play boredom. Wherever we are, something fun needs to be happening or else we will look down our nose at everybody in the vicinity. But not all of us are so uptight. Some bromos will try to relieve their boredom by going and actively engaging others. And that’s their prerogative. But for the rest of us: We’re fabulous and fierce and we don’t initiate conversation unless there’s a goal we’re looking to obtain. Everything with the bromo is a powerplay. We are strategically-minded and will sacrifice an englightening conversation for bar-idol status. I can have a great conversation at the City Square when eyes are not all on me. But when we’re in the bar, if I’m bored, everybody will think it’s because I choose to be. Now whether this sentiment is echoed by other patrons or is a symptom of the bromo’s delusional mind, it doesn’t matter. The point remains: If we’re at the club or bar and we’re bored, you best believe the phones are coming out.
The cellphone is a bromo’s best friend when our lezzy besties are too busy playing fish market exchange with their significant others or when the bromos we came with are hooking up with local trade. There’s nobody in the pub that you find interesting, you don’t have the energy to fire up your star-spangled aura to become a god to the ignorant bar-goers, and the only gossip going on comes from the bartender, but you already knew that Linz-Lo was suing Pitbull. Besides, once it hits MTV, it’s already yesterday’s news. Enter your celly.
That is your real friend, betch. That nukka don’t never leave your side, except when you’re in the shower, and it’s still nearby in case you get a text from the bestie about plans for the night or because you’re playing your jams and the ipod dock was too much trouble to haul to the bathroom. The celly knows your texting habits and knows not to autocorrect “heeeeeeeey.” It also understands that when you type “gin”, you mean “fun”, and autocorrects your mistake (try it; it works!) The celly knows who your other friends are and it facilitates your conversation. It categorizes your best bromos by fierce level and makes sure your contact list for the evening does not include your boss or your professor.
But back to the reason the celly is great at the bar: You don’t have to even be doing anything, and it no longer looks like you’re out of place at the bar. Just have it haphazardly in your limp-wristed hand and facing you, and you transform from a bored betch to a busy bromo. Nobody knows what you’re doing. Maybe you’re playing Angry Birds. Maybe you’re texting your trick. Maybe you have a boy back home. It doesn’t matter, because now you’re mysterious. Now you’re a challenge, because if a boy wants you, he’ll have to break your attention from your phone. You’re an prized idol now.
The bromo in the Club
When a bromo is bored in the club, that celly is out. He may be swaying to the music, but his hips are lying. He isn’t into you. He’s telling the Twitterverse that the DJ in Club Mask has no fucking idea what he’s doing. He’s replying to his bromo’s facebook message, explaining how he wishes he were anywhere else. He’s Grinding and wondering why the dude who’s located five feet away looks so fugly compared to his profile pic. He’s playing Angry Birds.
And the bromo will continue tweeting, FBing, Grinding, and Angry Birding until Superbass, Run the World (Girls), Edge of Glory, or some techno-variation of Firework comes booming through the speakers. At that moment, when he is no longer board, the phone goes away and the bromo does his thing. And guess what: It probably doesn’t include you.
Bromo and the Bar
We went over this earlier. The bored bromo in the bar uses the celly more for appearances than boredom relief. More than anything, it provides a cover for the bromo to scope the area without being seen to look. It’s like a one-way smokescreen: Even if other people are taking in the area, you are categorized as someone who isn’t paying attention, and so you see the gazers gazing you. That’s some philosophical shit, but that’s how the bromo does his thing. You better be keep up or speak up. But don’t say shit cos we don’t want to hear it.
As we say all the time, the bromo lifestyle has everything to do with power and its manipulation. Observation is a form of that power. You have the ultimate edge if you can see and be seen without being seen to see. If you don’t understand that, you have work to do. So while you are on your phone in the bar and a hottie moves in, you pay him little mind for a few seconds and then slowly gain more interest in what he has to say. If you want him to sweep you away right then and there, put the phone away and talk to that dude. If you want to keep him at a distance because you aren’t sure what you want or what he’s after, keep the phone up and don’t ever let him see that the screen is on the home one because you were too bored to even start up Angry Birds. You’re a bromo, so you’re creative and highly intelligent and we can’t even begin to cover all the possible powerplays in any given situation. Just know that your celly is the way to unboredom and a fantastic night.
Now we understand that not all bromos are into the bar and club scene. And not all bromos aspire to be mannequin-esq beauty queens whose only bodily movements include fucking and moving their arms from the bartop to their mouths with or without a dick drink in hand. That is great for them. But this is for the more focused bromo: The one whose Friday nights need some TLC because Jimmy Choo knows the assistant they hired is completely incompetent. That said, revere the celly. It is like a bestie you don’t have to worry about ditching when things start to heat up. Just check to make sure that when you laid your game down before splitting the bar, you didn’t lay your phone down.