The Habits and Habitats of Douchebags: The Philadelphia Edition
By darlingnikki
updated 3 months ago
As it has been noted by my fellow Guidespot writers (shoutout to Chelsea) douchebaggery is a modern American psychological epidemic. Hell, it is probably pandemic, but I know a lot more about stateside d-bags than their brothers in China, Sub-Saharan Africa and Down Under.
Douchebag: My Working Definition
Noun. A Douchebag is a person who takes himself seriously as to utterly annihilate any trace of personality, authenticity or sense of humor (although women can be douchebags too…but that’s a whole other guide). Usually the douchebag thinks that money can absolve him of social responsibility and that his thing (whether it’s a pretty bauble, a ‘clever’ pick-up line or a fancy car) makes him special. He usually has very little redeeming social value.
Bridge and Tunnel Douches: Habits
Not just for New York, Bridge and Tunnel Douchebags are weekend warriors from Jersey who infest the City of Brotherly Love on Friday and Saturday nights. They invade our bars, roofie our women and leave a wide trail of Drakkar in their berth.
Know them by their shimmery shirts, slicked hair and abundant jewelry. Much like Vicente de la Rosa, the OD (Original Douche) noted in the hilarious blog on “Historical Douchebaggery,” these fratted out fops will lure hotties away from worthy suitors with their shiny, shiny baubles.
This bar would almost be cool. If it weren’t FILLED TO THE GILLS WITH DOUCHEBAGS.
This bar would almost be cool. If it weren’t FILLED TO THE GILLS WITH DOUCHEBAGS.
The American Psycho Douchebag: Habits
Another ubiquitous brand of Douchbaggery comes in the form of the American Psycho Douche. Equally comfortable in the gym and the boardroom, these douches spend more time looking in the mirror than I do. With their polished, pretty-boy appearances, their flashy cars and their propensity to drop wads of cash on expensive bottles of wine and Cuban cigars, they might on the surface seem like a real catch. That is until you find out that they’ve been hacking up hookers in abandoned Rittenhouse apartments for years.
I once went on a date with an American Psycho Douche. He was a marketing executive (as many of them are). He was pretty in a Brad Pitt/ Matt Damon lovechild sort of way. All was fine until he tried to take me on drug run which I politely declined. He spent the next four hours calling me and texting me for a booty call. A word to the wise…if you find yourself on a date with Bateman JUST RUN!!!!
The American Psycho Douche Bag
They may appear suave on the outside. They may drive a really nice car and pay for dinner, but buyer beware—THIS is what lurks on the inside.
Squatter Douchebags are a pernicious brand of douche. Living on the fringes of society and mooching from family, friends and casual acquaintances, these douches actually believe they are ‘outside of the system.’ The truth of the matter is that they would not survive without the kind people with jobs who keep giving them money for pot, cigarettes and body piercings. They are above getting jobs but not above eating everything in your pantry and using your towels.
The scent trail of the Squatter Douche is wider and more pungent than all other douches combined. A composite of marijuana, patchouli and body odor, this stench will either make you wretch or want to smoke a doobie. This douche affects an interest in the arts (most likely music) but the product is hackneyed and owes more to the influence of drugs than any innate talent.
The Sopranos: When Art and Life Form a Circle Jerk
While the Sopranos themselves were fake “real” mobsters, the Wanna-Be Gangsters in Philly take it to a whole new level: life imitating art imitating life imitating art imitating life—a hall of mirrors of douchebagery.
Wanna-Be Gangster Douches: Habits
Wanna-be Gangster Douches are a Philly special. With the city’s rich mafia history, many denizens feel like they have a natural affinity with organized crime. These douches are ‘tough guys,’ usually with pathologically high BMIs, excessive gold chains and mucho hair grease. They are such caricatures of themselves that it’s almost hard to believe that they are real. Unless you have lived in South Philadelphia for ten years! I was in a deli the other day looking at a framed picture of mobsters they had next to the register. I was like “Where do I know that douche from? Does he live down the street?” And then I realized it was a cast shot of The Sopranos.
Wanna-be Gangsters throw money around like they have their own personal money tree growing out of their cement patches. They throw this money around to absolve themselves of their bad behavior, sort of like buying Indulgences from the Catholic Church. They are often mysogonist and disguise their hatred of women with words like ‘hon’ ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby.’
Wanna-Be Gangster Douchebag: Habitat--South Philadelphia
Wanna-be Gangsta Douches are the most racially eclectic band of Douches. In fact, this brand of Douchebaggery is like the United Nations of Douche, united around crap-tastic hip-hop and R&B music and bangin’ hos. Noted for their crooked baseball hats, enormous pants and shirts and extra-large bling-laden baubles, these douches would very much love to be street thugs. While they probably could take me in a fight, most of this just amounts to delusions of Snoop Dogg.
Hipster douches are without a doubt a nation-wide phenomenon. I have been waiting and waiting and waiting for them to get haircuts, buy some jeans that fit and lose the grip they have on irony, music and the books I love. Hipster douches are an affront to everything I hold dear. In their pretentious attempt to talk philosophy over their double espressos, they butcher Nietzsche, misquote Foucault and make Derrida spin in his grave. Po-mo my ass.
This brand of douchebag will lure you in with his clever commentary only to later reveal that he ripped every phrase from Hunter S. Thompson. He will mooch free beers from the bartender and leave piles of change as tips only to show up the next day with another $200 dollars of ink decorating his withered bicep or a new $150 pair of circulation-cutting Diesel jeans.