Welcome to Douche City
In the last few weeks, I have encountered a ridiculous amount of deebags. It’s getting to the point where I don’t want to leave my house in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some cool people, too, but they are in the minority.
To the dude on the bus at 9 P.M. wearing shades, listening to your Walkman incredibly loudly on a shitty mainstream rock station, taking up three seats, playing air drums way off rhythm, singing (mumbling) the words to AC/DC, Guns n’ Roses, and Nirvana, drinking hootch out of a Propel water bottle, and hassling every girl that is on the bus: you are a douche.
To the uber-drunk middle aged woman who was part of an office party that began at 5 p.m. that walked into the kitchen at my restaurant at 5:30 p.m. looking for the bathroom and, when told it was on the other side of the building, looked at me and just screamed like a little child who is told ‘no’: you are a douche.
To the two older, not-quite-homeless, yet not very upstanding citizens who rode behind me on the bus talking about your sexual preferences and how your ‘hand just doesn’t turn (you) on anymore’ and that when you ‘wake up with a hard-on’ you need a ‘dirty girl to roll over and not ask any questions’: you are douches. You are on a public bus, surrounded by strangers. Why do you feel the need to talk about your sex lives (or lack thereof) amongst us all? Disgusting.
To the couple that come into the restaurant on a regular basis that sits on the couch making out and caressing each other every single time you are in: you are douches. PDA is only tolerable in mild doses [hand holding, small kisses]. There’s a reason why you don’t get very good service at our restaurant – no one wants to be within fifteen feet of you. Do you not get enough time together outside of a public eatery? You freak me and everyone else out around you. Get a room!
I’m almost out of time, so I will have to write more later. Trust me, there are still plenty of A-holes out there, just waiting to cross my path. This is Douche City after all.
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It’s interesting that you have taken some time to attempt to qualify the term “douche.” I’ve always felt that douchebags were like pornography: I can’t give you a dictionary definition, but I know them when I see them. Still, I can’t quite agree with the array of douches you’ve laid out here. Everyone of these people is irritating, no question, but for some reason I’ve always felt D-Bags were necessarily dudes, and a specific kind of dude to boot. You remember all the guys at Hannah’s party last week? Those were the douches I’m most familiar with. Regardless of how you label them, though, they are everywhere. Some of my least favorite things ever.
I have to disagree with Drew on the premise that d-bags are necessarily male, but I’d say 80% more prevalent.
I’d classify an utterly fake woman as a douchebag, probably. It has to be a certain type of fake, and I agree with Drew that it’s incredibly hard to define.
i love it, danny. l o l.
Hey Dk! I just found out about this site! I like it. There’s a rhyme about peeing in rivers that I think we can alter to apply to this situation. The solution to the douche-in is dilution. I don’t know exactly what it means, but I guess you need to dilute the douches’ effects with other harmless things?