Lately I’ve been going to a local goth club a few nights each month, to make up for a youth misspent on studying and homework. I’ve been loving the hell out of it.
A few days ago, waiting at the bar, I noticed the guy in front of me ordered a Bud Light (!). He was wearing a baseball cap (!!) backwards (!!?!). He wore clothing with bright colors (!??!?!&$@!??) and a SPORTS TEAM LOGO! (?#%#U!!!omgwtfbbq1@??^!;:!?!)
He was a Bro. There were a small handful of them, and a couple girls as well. They did not Fit. Their visual aesthetic clashed awfully, and they had no idea how to act or dance. But Goths are a fairly chill crowd, so we all just gave them their space and wondered when they’d leave.
But they stuck around for quite a while. And, slowly, they began to acclimate. They tried to imitate the dance style in their own Bro-ish way, and really threw themselves into the music. It was actually very adorable to watch. They were honestly trying. And they attracted a small group that found this endearing. By the end of the night maybe they were still Outsiders, but they weren’t Strangers anymore. :)
It was heartwarming to watch. It was a microcosm of the entire American experience. The melting pot of our great country, accepting the new comers and helping them; and the new comers just wanting to make good in their own way. It’s the classic immigrant’s story. I was happy to be an American, and a Goth.
Of course on the drive home I shuddered to think what would happen if it wasn’t a handful of Bros. The Goth scene is small. It wouldn’t take much effort for the Denver Bro scene to overwhelm the place, and outnumber the regulars. What if instead suddenly the club was swamped with crew-cut, bright-shirted Chads?
I would throw my support behind a Bro-der Wall pretty damn quick.