The Bruce is Loose
Diego had a college roommate who hailed from Texas. Big Jeb was his name. They were roommates in the early years of the century, when it had become acceptable for men of all creeds to address each other as “bro.” “Bro”s were dropped at reckless speeds, but not from Big Jeb’s mouth: he preferred the strange epithet, “bruce.”
A bruce, Big Jeb explained, is a rowdy, ill-mannered guy. Go on. Picture a guy named ‘Bruce.’ How do you picture him? Yup. Loud. Jerky. Don’t be a bruce, man. No one likes a bruce.
Diego was delighted by this term and for him, it immediately replaced “bro,” “dude,” and “man.” The term was soon used by all of their soccer buddies and roommates, and everyone was a bruce until proven innocent – even if the object of the game was to not be one. Women could be just as unruly as men, so a female bruce was naturally dubbed a brucette.
Big Jeb moved back to Texas after graduation, but as far as Diego was concerned, the Bruce was still loose. By that point, all of Diego’s high school buddies were bruces, too. When Diego’s dog piddled on the rug, he was commanded not to be a bruce. It was a brucey-bruce world.
In 2005, Diego moved up to New York City, as did a number of his high school friends. The Bruce had come to the Big Apple and was taking it by storm. The Big City Bruces now party in midtown Manhattan instead of Channelside and are prouder to be bruces than ever – one of them has bought a domain name. There has even been talk of creating a Bruce fashion line.
Koko is one of my oldest friends. She moved to New York City in 2003. Her two brothers are bruces. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she, who used to exclusively call people “punks,” referred to her brother Ron as a bruce the other day.
“How far does this bruce thing go?” I marveled.
In just a few short years, the bruce has traveled from Texas to Florida to New York City. Japan, even – I’m sure I called Sean and Bob bruces once or twice. You know. When they were acting like bruces.
The big question is – what can’t the bruce do?
Hi, I’ve been following your blog for a while now. This post caught my eye because I live in Texas right now. I have yet to hear the word Bruce but now I’m going to keep my ears open! Also, I’ve been meaning to see if I can get some advice or recommendations from you. I’m going to be visiting New York for the first time next week. I visited Japan last year and have fallen beyond in love with it. My gf spent a lot of time in Okinawa when she was a teenager. I was wondering if there is anywhere in NYC that will remind us of Japan, even if it’s just authentic food, or anything. I figured you’d know well where to go in NYC if you had a craving for something Japanese.
Hi, Tera! Thank you for your kind comments. I absolutely have some ideas for Japanese places to visit in New York. St. Mark’s Place in the East Village has unofficially become known as “Little Tokyo” with a huge proliferation of japanese restaurants. For me, the most Japanese of them all is Kenka Ya – an izakaya between 3rd and 2nd avenues on St. Mark’s. The wait is impossible so only try going on a weeknight, maybe – but it’s cheap and authentic. The udon shops on that street are also quite authentic; I feel Japan Sick when I go. Have a great trip!!