Don’t Be That Guy

Do you know That Guy? Of course you know That Guy. That’s why he is That Guy. Don’t you hate That Guy? I hate That Guy. We all hate That Guy.

The reason for his ubiquity is, of course, that That Guy is not one guy, but rather several. There are many different incarnations of That Guy, some more abundant than others, even as they are all referred to by a common name. Scientists put their number in the low hundreds. Some even refer to this menagerie as “Those Guys,” but this tends to rid the That Guy concept of its singularity. He always seems to be that one friend we all have. On the other hand, however, if we make the plural That Guy-s, or even That Guys-es, we sound like foreigners. And we all know how I feel about foreigners. So. Those Guys it is.

Sun Podcast: A podcast is available for this column. Click here [1] to listen to or to download it.The first of Those Guys who comes to mind is Brings his Girlfriend to Guy’s Night Out Guy. That Guy is usually worse than Texts his Girlfriend All Night Guy. While you can ignore the schmuck who leaves every conversation to type, “no i wuv u morf” every three minutes, BhGtGNO guy just kills it for everybody. This phenomenon is also not only suffered when people go out drinking at night; That Guy can always ruin a perfectly good day. One of my buddies brought his girlfriend with him when a bunch of us went “hunting.” Granted, what I call hunting most people would call five suburban kids in New Balance sneakers throwing rocks at trees and shooting over the tops of said trees, but we didn’t really need to hear “Ohmygod, they’re so loud” and “But, Diego, it’s so muddyyyy” all damn day.

Then we have, of course, Announces Every Conquest Guy. That Guy always feels compelled to let everyone know, in as unsubtle a way as possible, that he, in a manner of speaking, broached land the previous night. He’ll say stuff like, “Man, I never realized how small my bed is,” or “So, this morning I was washing my sheets when …” And he always follows this statement with a pause, waiting for either applause or someone to go for an impressed whistle and exclaim, “Gee whiz, Milton! I can’t believe you went all the way with Ruth! Wow, you’re my hero!”

Another guy to avoid is Eats Your Food Guy. Yes, sometimes your roommates will drink your beer when you’re not there. That’s fine. That’s what beer is for. But then your roommate might drink your O.J. and kill your milk. And that’s not fine. Contrary to popular belief, I do not drink beer in the morning. Not ‘til Slope Day, at least. Of course, Eats Your Food Guy is infinitely better than the “Are you Going to Finish That” Guy. I used to be That Guy. Don’t be That Guy.

An old favorite is Ruins Other People’s Pictures Guy. You know, That Guy who just has to be in every picture? You’re at a party, at a BBQ, somewhere, wherever, and you’re posing with a group of people and smiling, and it all looks so natural, and these are the types of pictures you frame and you just went to the bathroom and are pumped because there’s nothing in your teeth this time. And then up pops Bozo, attacking from the flanks or maybe even leaping over everyone’s head, Bozo with his eyes a’crossed and his tongue a’wagging, determined to send everyone scurrying for the Delete button on their camera.

We also have Those Guys with whom you don’t want to be friends. This is when That Guy goes from uncool to not cool. There’s Never Picks Up the Tab Guy, Never Buys a Round Guy, “Forgets” to Put in Tax or Tip Guy, Doesn’t Return Your Stuff Guy, Doesn’t Pay What He Owes You Guy and, the grand marshal asshole himself, Won’t Honor His Bets Guy. You should not be friends with These Guys. Drop them like CNN did Soledad.

Worst of all are the oblivious Guys, those who just don’t realize what their behavior is accomplishing. Or is preventing you from accomplishing, as the case may be. These Guys, who often turn into the C of an A-B conversation, are infuriating. Seriously. It’s 3 a.m., everyone’s gone home, the girl you have your arm around is rapidly losing interest and becoming sleepier by the minute, and your friend, the immortal Cockblock Guy, sits on the other couch and happily talks about the difference between Stocks and Bonds. And then the girl finally gets fed up and leaves, and you sit on the couch glaring at your friend, and he makes some crack about your game … Sorry. I need a moment.

There are just so many of Those Guys. At the cafeteria, you can find Stops Abruptly Guy, Waits Until he is at the Buffet to start Thinking About What he Wants From the Buffet Guy, and Drops Tongs in Food Guy. At the bathroom you can find Takes the Middle Urinal Guy, Won’t Replace the T.P. Guy, Doesn’t Flush Guy, Doesn’t Wash his Hands Guy and, worst of all, Talks on his Cell While on the Toilet Guy. In the classroom you have Asks Questions With One Minute Left Guy, Asks Questions that Pertain Only to Him Guy, Asks You What You Got on the Test Guy, and Writes Down Everything and Has to Yell “Wait!” at the Professor After Every Slide Guy. And then you have the random ones, the Talks During The Sopranos Guy, Smacks His Gum Guy, Chews With Mouth Open Guy, Answers Everything With “Your Mom” Guy, Can’t Hold His Liquor Guy, the Sweaty/Sketchy One-Man Dance Party Guy, the Josh Goldman Guy, the One Step Too Far Guy, Always has to be Right Guy, and — the grandaddy and worst of them all — Brings Out His Guitar Guy.

I mean, my God. They’re everywhere. Look! There’s Blackberry Guy! And Spits Crumbs at You Guy! And Larry the Cable Guy! Is there no escape? Is there no escape?

Oh hell. I just became Couldn’t Figure Out an Ending for His Column Guy. I hate That Guy.

Carlos Maycotte is The Sun’s former Associate Editor. He can be contacted at cam98@cornell.edu. Tequila Sunrise appears Thursdays.

Editor's Note: Please use the comment space below to to add to Carlos's list of Those Guys.