“Bro, get outta my face” demanded the muscular, square jawed man who pushed me out of his way from the bar last saturday. It was obvious from the way that he confidently shoved me (a stranger) and spilled his two-double fisted Vodka Redbulls on me that he gets a lot of chicks.
I don’t know if it was his attitude that was strong (despite his 5’4″ stature) that mezmerized me so much or his glorious T-shirt. It was ingenious; simple, original,and elegant yet somehow refined and classy. It bore the region of where he was from and implied that he lived a lifestyle that was somehow related. Best of all, it was neon yellow and bore an image of a big fucking anchor. It had it all. From a corporate point of view, why had no other business on a coast thought of using this as a logo? It was pure genius.
Now don’t get me wrong I saw these shirts before. Originally worn by tourists and hipsters alike, walking the boardwalk of Downtown Halifax who had been intrigued by the novelty. My last encounter with the shirts had been while downtown one night, enjoying a smoke outside of the bar. I had witnessed three gentlemen jump out of a car with who I presume to be one of their mothers, each of them sporting the shirt in a different colour variation, heading into The Dome. None, however, had intrigued me like this douchebag. I had never seen a piece of clothing reflect its wearer so perfectly. I too needed to belong to this marvelous group of God’s among men.
I went out in search of one at the nearest store that sold urban clothing, you know the obnoxiously priced, screen printed shirts that are obviously superior to every other shirt sold over the past two decades. In the men’s section of Pseudio (Often hard to distinguish the sections for different genders as the clothing line simultaneously caters to the uni-sexual and metrosexual; How posh!) There I saw it; The shirt of my dreams!
The shirt was in Neon pink; It would look totally awesome when i want to look like I’m going to the gym! As I slipped it on the plain cotton felt amazing against my skin. Never had I worn something so plain. The cheap, crumbily screen print on the front was an immediate sign of quality. A shirt as disposable and tacky as this would clearly by out of my $80 budget. Wait.. It couldn’t be? $40?! I could buy two!
I felt the shirts power take ahold of me almost instantly. I wouldn’t even take it off to get checked out at the register. The girl was young, new and taking way too long.
“Don’t you know I gots somewhere to be!” I demanded confidently. It was working!
Soon I was hanging out with all the guys simultaneously texting people who were obviously more important than those around me. I was hooking up with chicks on Plenty of Fish twice a week and never texting them back. I was getting 5 times the number of likes on Tinder. I didn’t like any of them back of course; I just wanted to see how awesome the pic I took in the bathroom mirror after my shower was.
Anyway, thats it for this review. I have to head over to the mall to buy a pair of bright white shoes. My last pair had a speck of dirt on them. I think I’ll throw on my neon yellow east-coast hoodie! Yeah that looks sick with my underarmour pants, my red Goodlife bag, and my Popeyes protein shaker; Since, you know, I’m obviously jacked.