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I almost wish I could change the name of this column to Most Hated GDI of All Time for this one. The Guido is not a simple entity like previous posts that can simply be ignored or dismissed. The Guido’s sole purpose for existence is to make his presence known.
We as fraternal gentlemen have this commanding presence in common with the scummy Guido, but the true difference lies in execution. While the affluent non-guidos of the world like myself garner attention through a lavish lifestyle, and overdressing every chance I get, the Guido instead chooses to gain attention by spreading a cloud of douchiness everywhere they go.
If you can’t identify a guido by now, dear God there’s no helping you. They can be instantly picked out of the crowd by the extra 3 inches of height added by their cemented-in-place porcupine haircuts. You don’t even really need to see them to know they’re around. As soon as you walk into a Guido-infested bar, you’re bound to hear their telltale raucous voices booming above the bassline, or notice the pungent smell of cheap imitation Gucci cologne (60% of the time, it works every time).
Guidos are most common along the East coast, but their plague-like influence is beginning to spread all over our nation. While I can understand seeing them in Florida fairly often (we do have Miami, the asshole of the South after all), I was appalled when I noticed a fist bumping crew in Alabama on a recent trip. That’s Ala-fucking-bama, not exactly our nations capital for tolerance. These insects are spreading their filth nationwide, and you’re going to need more than a fine toothed comb and special shampoo to get rid of these vermin.
So how does one deal with these worthless Guidos without inciting an arrest and/or adding yourself to the Italian Mafia’s “hit list?” I’m here to help. The most important Guido prevention tactic is to make sure to select bars that don’t cater to their types. If you see a “No Affliction Shirts” sign out front, you’re off to a good start. If the inside of the bar isn’t overwhelmed by a bowel-movement-esque dubstep song, you’re one step closer to Guido freedom. Finally, if you look inside the bar and see a light show that would cause more Japanese children to have seizures than a pokemon episode, just turn around. I don’t know about you, but having a laser shine into my whiskey ginger doesn’t make it taste any better, and when one of those shines in your eye, it’s a bitch.
There you have it, gentlemen. As you begin your gameday weekends, keep an eye out for these scoundrels polluting the air with shitty music, shitty liquor, and even shittier company. I went to Catholic School, so I’m all for the “Do unto others” thing, so if a Guido steps out of line by all means return the favor. Tell them I sent you.