Day Six: The O-Bro, Fo Sho

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Edgar Allan Bro

I'm still getting the hang of 9-5 culture, but I'm pretty sure every office in midtown Manhattan has on staff at least a dozen Bros - ridiculous 20 and 30something dudeguys with popped collars and booming surfer voices, steeped in pop-culture and brand-name consumerism, who let everything in life (serious or not) roll off their backs with the same ease they might roll a joint. They are the stuff of lite-beer commercials, J. Crew chinos and ZogSports teams. Chances are, you know a bro.

And more often than not, they are harmless. My experience has thankfully only been with Bro-lite, or Diet Bro...guys whose behavior can be silly but never upsetting. The XTREME Bro (for that is how he'd spell it) is the kind of sexist pig who degrades women and enjoys tearing them down. These are fewer in number, but still horrifying. It's like they're born straight from the pages of a Neil LaBute horrorshow. Those guys I do not like at all.

Diet Bro likes the feeling of fraternity, and to talk a lot of trash, but when push comes to shove, he knows that being a real man means not disrespecting women. I have no problems with Diet Bro. At my job, we employ a super-fun, frisky dingo of a Diet Bro, whom I lovingly call Office Bro. He's like a Hamptonite puppy with an impressive salary and a gift for zingers and self-deprecating humor. He also likes wearing pink.

I kind of adore the Office Bro. He's super nice. Office Bro (or O-Bro) introduced himself to me on my first day with a loud, overconfident voice and a handshake borrowed from Zeus. It was cocky, and done to garner laughs and attention, but he was not ready for me at all. I took the handshake, turned it into a kind of bump-grenade and said "What's up? So nice to meet you, man!"

Office Bro is sort of an important executive. Heehee.

And he LOVED that I wasn't going to be a doormat. Now, O-Bro regularly comes to my desk to shoot the shit, swap some gossip, and prank call other members of staff. And because there is zero sexual chemistry whatsoever between us (Thank God) it's become like a buddy comedy. He's the Will Ferrell to my John C. Reilly. He's invited me to crash (yes, crash) some VIP events, and laughs openly at the frequently ludicrous job requirements he has. This is no deep friendship, but he's a fun guy to work with, and enjoys being a clown. O-Bro appreciates me, appreciates what his job affords him, and absolutely takes time to enjoy everything in life that he can. I'll take that over some stuck-up suit anyday.

Now if only I could get him to ease up on the pink shorts....