There’s a special place in my heart for the LitBro, the overweening loudmouth in lectures always in a tortoise-shell something. You know, the guy who likes to talk about liking Ernest Hemingway way too much. The guy who will needle you for hours over the difference between two authors nobody else cares about, but insists he is a “chill dude” at parties. The guy who practically yells at coffee shops about fact-checking at some men’s fitness/softcore porn rag, but he’s just doing that until his Leftist hockey blog starts making money.
O LitBro, Full of Bombast, how glad I am to report that you, in fact, never grow up, and at 43 will begin to confuse your love life with a book club. How wonderful it is that I found your Craigslist personal ad “What’s on Your Nightstand?”, in which you assure the world that you are still “fit, funny, lusty, and literary.” In the long ticker of the “men seeking women” page, you have survived to a comfortable middle age in SoHo.
You will illustrate the post with the cover art of Keith Richards’ Life, a seance in book form to his–and your–potency long gone. You’ll rattle off a list of books, many of which you last read as a senior in high school, and only the first six chapters.
You’ll pine for the days before ubiquitous technology, crying out for a woman who shares your belief that “text” means more than “message”.
LitBro, is it true that you read these books by yourself in bar? How else would you know that the books are “best read by the light of a jukebox”? Why do you sit so close to the jukebox if you’re trying to read? The barroom set-up thing was cute in college, but you’re 43 now! You’re so grown that you’ve got a membership at the local black box theater you’ve never actually used! It might be time to diversify your moves, LitBro.
I’ve maybe got a thing for you, LitBro, but you’ve always disguised your discomfort with gay people behind pseudo-erudition. So I’ll tell you what. Since I can’t have you, I’ll reproduce your Craigslist personal ad on the Voice website for free.
Best of luck, LitBro, I hope you find what you’re looking for.
Anybody remember when text wasn’t a message? 6′, fit, funny, lusty and literary here with a few favorites (best read by the light of a jukebox). Let’s see what’s on your dive bar reading list!
Life – Keith Richards
Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas – Hunter S. Thompson
Kitchen Confidential – Anthony Bourdain
Naked Lunch – William S. Burroughs
A Moveable Feast – Ernest Hemingway
Ham on Rye – Charles Bukowski
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on July 22, 2013