A Lesson About Sounding Cool When You’re English!



“Hey Bro, how’s it going? Okay? Yeah,” he says as he walks off.


Okay, so he asked me how I was, whilst walking away, but then immediately answered for me and then questioned the answer that I didn’t even give, only to leave me enough time to respond with, “Yeah!” This is also accompanied by a cheesy big smile and a thumbs up. I avoided the urge to wink with the simultaneous point. The old classic, cheeky cowboy wink and pointy gun gesture. Wink bang!


That was a bloody blokey kind of greeting wasn’t it?


Yes, we are blokes. Men! MEN! Macho, muscly, bald, bespectacled, ruggedly handsome, cultural and sexually alluring men. Well speaking for myself anyway. Oh yeah and modest! I forgot modest. Of course it’s only based on the exact words spoken by the very lovely and complimentary Mrs Grump, if a little paraphrased. It’s all down to interpretation isn’t it? One person says, “Your ginger beard’s getting a bit long and you’ve got a bogey sticking out your left nostril”, the other hears, “You macho, muscly, bald, bespectacled, ruggedly handsome, cultural and sexually alluring man!” He’s not blessed with baldness like me and he doesn’t need glasses either. I can’t comment on the other qualities quoted. I have no opinion.


Anyway, the testosterone was pumping! We were like two American Footballers screaming at each other but without the pads, helmets, screaming or facing each other. We were walking in different directions but apart from those minor differences we were exactly like two psyched up American Footballers… in an office.


We were so cool. You know what made it cool? Because he called me bro!


It’s an unwritten rule that if you want to be a dude, you call people bro! “Hey bro! How’s it going?”


God, I wish I was that cool. If I was, I’d probably have a surf board!


Right that’s enough. I’m done with the sarcasm. Shit’s about to get real.


Bro! Bro? I’m not your bro! Bro is a term shortened for brother. Brother is a term used for males who are born of the same parents or alternatively it can be used in a friendship between two men who consider themselves to be as bonded as brothers!


But I don’t know you! All I know is your first name. We have no bond. There is no bond here. I’ve never shared a passing conversation with you let alone a beer, a strip club, a game of darts, a stand for human rights, a festival tent, a strong leaflet campaign or a sign of solidarity against the corporate and capitalist organisations that are taking over the world and crushing the free man into a conforming unenlightened shadow of his previous generations! As I mentioned earlier, we are not even members of the brotherhood of bald!


I’m just some bloke who sits in a completely different part of the office who might say a friendly hello as we pass. That, my colleague, is politeness. Don’t take it the wrong way and think that we are, “Tight.”


We are not tight. We will not be running into battle wearing skirts with bare muscly/podgy torsos showing. Our blood stained swords raised in the air as we scream at the enemy, “SPARTA!” You don’t even have a beard and I can’t grow one anyway!


No, there won’t be any of that madness going on.


For all I know, you could be the one who sits in one of the toilet cubicles and listens to people shit because you’d rather pretend to poo than sit at your desk! Quite frankly, I could never be the “brother” of that man! See my earlier post Something Women Just Wouldn’t Understand for more details about that person.


Of course, I may be being harsh here. He might think I’m Polish and that my name is something like, oh I don’t know, Bromavich. Is that even a Polish name? Let’s just say that Bro is just short for Bromavich. Well shame on those who gave him that false information and shame on him for failing to notice that I don’t have any resemblance to an Eastern European! I can’t plaster either!



It’s just trying too hard to be cool. Using terms like, “Cool,” “Awesome,” or “Bro,” which in a geeky voice really doesn’t work. You sound like you’re one of the founding members of the British Bill & Ted fan club. You’ve got four members and one of those is your pet gerbil. But also asking people, “How’s it going?” What is IT exactly? The day? This incarnation? The undercarriage rash that is causing me concern? What is IT?


You know there’s a lot to be said for being succinct, to the point, saying what you mean without going on and on and on and using vague words and phrases without actually explaining what it is you are trying to ask when you could easily say something else, some other phrase to get straight to the point and to deliver what it is that you are trying to say. Just use the traditional method of questioning about someone’s well being. “How are you?” Or really unorthodox, “Are you well?”


“How’s it going?” “How goes it?” This is Birmingham, England in the year 2014. This isn’t California in the late 80’s /early 90’s. This isn’t New York or Chicago or any other place that seems cool to the British because it’s always mentioned in tv shows or films. You are not Alice Cooper! You are not living in Waynes World! You are a Brummie and your use of the word Dude sounds as authentic as the Queen saying, “Pump up the bass you Mother Bitches!” You’re trying too hard. Stop!!


The phrase “Dude” generally sounds rubbish in an English accent anyway. It’s better if spoken with an American, Australian or even Kiwi accent.


By the way, I feel that I must point out, I have NO undercarriage rash! Mrs Grump reads this and I don’t want her to think that I do have undercarriage issues. Next thing you know we’ll be on Jeremy Kyle. “I Found Out About My Other Half’s Rotten Undercarriage From his Blog!”


We’ll be sat there, with some space between us and sure enough Jeremy Kyle would be standing over me. His highly nasal and deeply condescending tones bellowing out, spoken by a man who has the confidence of any man with a few large security guards in close proximity. Shouting at me and asking, “What kind of a human being would do that to his other half? To let her find out about serious puss spluttering undercarriage issues by reading your blog? What have you got to say for yourself?”


I’d have to respond in a manner that would come across well. I’d need to connect with the audience. I’d need to win their favour and sound like I was a man of the world.


“Jez! Dude! I’ll take the lie detector test. It’s all good bro!”





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