My car, the dudebro-mobile

Further to a thought I mentioned in passing at the end of yesterday’s post about the creep who was hanging around my car and tried to get in it when I came out late Friday night.

Now, I have spoken to the police a couple times this morning in more detail about the incident, and they agree it seems like the guy was targeting my vehicle because he figured out it was a girl’s car.

So… Either we have a carjacker who figured a chick would give him few hassles (but then, wouldn’t just flat out stealing the car whilst it was sitting there unattended give even less trouble?) or we have a would-be rapist. Neither is good, but of course one is far, far, far worse.

(On the upside, I still hold to my theory that statistically I am more likely to be propositioned by a rock star, so… if indeed I have run into an actual would be rapist… someone please tell Izzy and that cute bassist from L.A. Guns in the late ’80s to call me… Tell them it’s in the interests of science and maintaining statistical veracity. Or something.)

Anyhoo… In regards to Friday, I got away a little spooked but otherwise unscathed.

Now, the question becomes how to avoid any repeats? The most obvious solution—lock and load—is one that unfortunately isn’t legal here in Canada and I’m not quite ready to pack it in and move to Texas yet.

The second most obvious solution is to de-girlify my car. And furthermore, to stage it as if it was owned not only by a dude, but by some sort of jacked up steroid monkey thug wannabe who’s perhaps always wanted a chance to kill a man with his bare hands.

Needless to say, this involves a certain amount of cartoonishness, as I am not one of those and neither is anyone I know. (Though my brother does lift weights and does know bouncers and bodybuilders, so I am working off of stories I’ve heard from him.)

I came up with a few ideas last night and implemented most of them today.

First up: the back seat.

No more sparkly scarves or knitting magazines. I replaced those with a copy of Muscle & Fitness, as well as a UFC magazine and a motorcycle one. Still looking for a copy of Guns & Ammo. I debated grabbing a copy of Entrepreneur, but I don’t want to give off any “I’m rich, come mug me” signals either, so I skipped that.

I also went to the supplement section of my grocery store and stared slack jawed at the selection of whey protein etc. I debated going for one with a pic of five guys who all look like Ahh-nuld on it but wondered if that was too cartoony and fake. Eventually I settled on a tub of Weider’s Weight Gainer powder, because it seems to me many actual bodybuilders worship Joe Weider still, and it didn’t look too cartoony.

I also grabbed a vial of that five hour energy drink shit.

I had debated whether to throw a box of condoms or even empty condom wrappers on the back seat floor but decided against this on the grounds that even though I don’t think any girl would leave condom wrappers in her back seat, guys often keep their cars fairly clean and that might be bordering on the kinda gross so it seemed unrealistic.

Also, I have my eye on a certain someone and we shall be attending a show together next weekend with a distinct possibility that we might end up in my car, and I would not want him seeing condom wrappers and thinking I’m banging someone else. Bad enough that I might get asked the inevitable “uh, you said you were into skinny guitar dudes, so what the fuck have you got magazines with bodybuilding guys kicking around your car for?”

But anyway… it was funny to see that whoever stocks the bodybuilding supplements in my grocery store had a similar thought because sure enough there was a string of boxes of Trojans hanging in front of the creatine tubs.

Anyway, here’s the after:


Next up I was off to Canadian Tire in search of truth and fun… No, actually I was there looking for a set of Tapout floor mats I saw on the Canadian Tire website.

Neither of the Canadian Tires I visited today had them, but I did snag a couple other items: Everlast boxing hand wrap, casually thrown on the back seat of the car.

And since my old air freshener was a Glade apple cinnamon thing shaped like a candle and far too girly, I grabbed a pack of ones shaped like the Browning logo (Browning makes shotguns, for all of you who don’t know that). Bonus (I think): they reek like douchebag cologne, so now my car even smells like a dudebro drives it.


I debated getting a hunting camo something or other to leave in the back, but it seems to me most hunters aren’t that big into bodybuilding and vice versa, so for consistency as well as my Visa bill, I nixed this idea and figured I’d stick with the bodybuilder/dudebro vibe, with only the one subtle hint that said dudebro might be into shooting things.

To that end, I stashed all non-Van Halen/Rolling Stones CDs in my glove box. I’m guessing that’s not the most up to date thing, though, as your modern dudebro might not listen to as much Van Halen or the Stones as his dad did.

No, the modern dudebro probably listens to Kanye West and crap like that, but there are some things that even I won’t do, even in the name of proactive self-defense. I’d rather be carjacked than own such loathsome noise. (Six of one, half a dozen of the other on the rape possibility.)

Wait a sec: got it! Need to leave Nickelback CDs on view. If lame-ass Facebook snark memes are true, then dudebros love them some Nickelback! Fortunately, I do have a couple of Nickelback CDs to display in my car.

(Fuck you, they actually have some great songs…. just none of their power ballad singles, which are all terrible no matter how lucrative.)

And lastly, while I failed to locate Tapout floor mats today, I did locate something almost as good: an Ed Hardy wheel cover (better yet, on sale for 8 bucks!). If ya wanna say “I am a thug wannabe douche,” everybody knows you say it with Ed Hardy.


(I must admit, I quite like the peacock motif, even though it is Ed Hardy. That and the Nickelback thing makes me a bad person, doesn’t it? Oh well. No one’s perfect.)

Trawling ebay for a suitable rear license plate holder. No clear winners yet, though the “Your mom loves my ride” one made me laugh out loud. Wouldn’t actually get it though.

Well, I think my car is sufficiently de-girlified that hopefully there shall never be a repeat of Friday’s incident.