All of us have nights where we aren’t on our best game. Maybe you pre-gamed too hard and can barely form words, let alone compose something clever enough to engineer a scoring drive. Maybe your targets are imposing a no-fly zone, denying your requests to buzz the tower. Maybe even your reheated pizza dinner is sending you in and out of the bathroom more times than a constipated hipster’s house cat. Whatever the reason, on nights like these it can be comforting to take solace in the score of a brother. Not only do you get a vicarious glimpse into what could have been, but messing with your buddy’s shacker is one of the most fun things an inebriated collegiate can do. The trick is to tiptoe the line between the absurd and the tasteless, pushing the boundary as far as will allow before scaring the girl off for good. Just like Cardale Jones’ future publicist, I’m here to give you some tips for ascertaining the acceptable from the atrocious.
The first step is to draw as much attention to the event as possible. Some brothers revel in the conquest, ready to show off their skills more enthusiastically than Baker Mayfield doing the whip. Others take a decidedly more taciturn approach, trying to hustle their slam upstairs before the rest of the house notices. Usually, this is because the girl is either hideous or you’ve shamed the brother so hard in the past that he now fears what new scheme you all have concocted for his latest sexual adventure. In the case of the latter, it’s best to disseminate the information quickly. Thanks to mobile technology, sending evidence is now easier and faster than ever. With great power comes great responsibility.
Next, a well-timed prank can make the night just awkward enough for all involved. Nobody has a clue how that sex doll ended up in your room, buddy. It was weird for that life-size cardboard cutout of Dale Earnhardt Jr. to slide under the doorframe, wasn’t it? And for the last time, we’re sorry for the interruption, but we all really thought that the R. Kelly serenade would help seal the deal. Unless you want to be a real dick about it, make sure that whatever you choose to do introduces enough awkwardness into the situation to make it uncomfortable, but not so much so that the shacker departs early. You don’t want to ruin the best part, which is, in your case, the morning after.
The morning after is where you, as degenerate and degrading assholes, truly get to shine. As your brother’s hookup tries to steal away quietly with her remaining dignity and an oversize t-shirt, feel free to really up the ante. Throw up some ratings like a foodie reviewing the latest artisanal eatery. An unrequested and unreciprocated high-five can speak volumes. Don’t underestimate the power of subtlety, as well. Sometimes a sly wink-and-gun point is all you really need to get the point across. This is your time to shine, so make the most of the cherishing and embarrassing gift your brother has bestowed upon you before she leaves on the next Uber across town.
During my senior year, one of my good friends acquired, for the benefit of the house, a garishly painted, carved wooden tiki statue. Sitting idly in the corner of the room with a contorted face and a color scheme that can only be described as eccentric, it scared the shit out of many a guest during darkened evenings. It quickly became a tradition to place this tiki right outside the door of any hookups in progress to greet the lucky guest first thing in the morning upon exiting. One night, I brought a girl back to my place and led her upstairs to my bed. After some time in the sheets, I got up to grab my cell phone that I had accidentally left outside.
In my practically blackout state, I had completely forgotten about the tiki that I knew would be right outside the threshold of my room. Stumbling blindly in the darkness, I knocked into the five-foot high statue with enough force to send both myself and the decorative piece flying down the hall. Terrified, the girl I brought back suddenly sprang from the bed and flipped on the lights to find me alligator wrestling a wooden replica of ancient tribal art. She was not impressed. After trying to regain what was left of my dignity, I vainly attempted to initiate a second round but was quickly shot down. The next morning, passing over the vanquished corpse of my fallen enemy, I tried proffering up some believable reason, explaining the events of the previous night. However, the illusion was quickly dissolved when my brothers presented both myself and my guest with a specially made celebratory funfetti cake. My friends are such dicks..