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January 11, 2011

There is no bounds to the bonds of Brohood.

Many people have asked "What would you do for your bro?" And to that I say, "There isn't anything I'd do for my bro, bro."

But this is one example of the lengths I would go for my bro.

I would go to the grocery store for my bro. The reason for this is because I would want to make him a sandwich. One thing I pride myself on knowing is what my friends like to eat. I feel that this knowledge is indispensable. It just always comes in handy for the many social gatherings I have with my friends and my bro. So, I would go to the grocery store. But since it is for my bro, I would purchase the nicer deli meat. Oscar Meyer Weiner will never touch my bro’s lips as long as I am preparing food for him. I would decide on a multi-meat sandwich, which I would relay this information to my deli man, Walt. Walt would prepare few fine cuts of a variety of meats for me. I’d make sure to leave him a nice tip. Walt is a good man, with a nice family. I would still not believe that Terrance is going into 3rd grade. At this point, I would grab some chips for my bro. Now, usually he likes potato chips, but since this is going to be a multi-meat sandwich, I would know what he would prefer BBQ Chips. He has said on multiple occasions that BBQ Chips are the only chips that go perfectly with a multi-meat sandwich. Being the friend I am, I would call upon this knowledge immediately. The only thing missing from the equation is the perfect drink. This is where I would remember why I am friends with my bro because of our joint love of root beer. Now that I would be done with the shopping, I would bring all of this to the front counter, where I would enjoy a pleasant conversation with Beth, the check-out girl and the man behind me, who would introduce himself as Mark. The conversation would be about how we are all amazed at how nice the weather is (which it would be).
At this point, I would drive home and prepare the sandwich, as my bro would be arriving in fifteen minutes. The trick to creating the perfect multi-meat sandwich is the order one places the meat on the sandwich. Some argue that it is meat choice, but I would argue that all sandwich meats perfectly complement each other, as long as they are put in a proper order. Seeing as I am knowledgeable on such things, I would know this. The sandwich would be ordered as follows: one slice of sourdough bread (at this point I would wonder if there is really any other kind of bread that can be used for the multi-meat sandwich. I would come to the conclusion that “No, there isn’t”) that would be topped with a thin layer of light mayo, immediately followed by a slightly thicker layer of mustard. Here is where the order comes into play. I would have purchased thin strips of ham, roast beef, and bologna. I would know that you start off with the roast beef to establish a primer of taste. The second piece would be the thin strips of ham. Now, a lesser man would assume that you would just put the bologna here, but I would know that that is incorrect. This would be the point that you put the lettuce and tomato to create a buffer zone between the meats. I would know this and follow this. Then I would lay down the bologna and a slice of pepper jack cheese to really send it home. I would top this off with the other piece of sourdough bread (“Really, who would think of using any other kind of bread?”) and create the spread on the plate, perfectly laying out the sandwich and BBQ Chips on a nice, clean plate and I would pour the root beer into one of my retro 50s glass cups to just add a little pizzazz to the presentation.
Just as I would finish, my bro would enter. He would have just gotten done at work, which would have been demanding that day. He would see the food set out for him and be extremely grateful for it. He would give me a thankful hug and we would sit down and discuss his day over sandwiches. But because the day would have been so demanding and he would have been so hungry, the thicker layer of mustard would back fire as it would drip onto his nice collared shirt. I would want to help and would know the solution (lightly dabbing it with a rag soaked in club soda). But, being the Forgetful Fred I am, I would have forgotten to pick up more club soda as I would be out because of an unfortunate spaghetti incident a few days prior. My bro would just accept the loss and attempt to get it into the washer quickly. But he would need an extra shirt and I would gladly offer one of mine. Seeing as this would be on laundry day, it would have to be my old, ratty Class of ’05 shirt from high school that has the slight hole in the left armpit. I would grab it from my room and bring it to my bro, who would have already gotten his shirt into the wash. I would hand him the shirt and our hands would touch. In this seemingly insignificant moment, we would realize what we had been oblivious to: we are in love with each other.
At this point, under the spell of love, we would begin a relationship. Our friends would initially not understand, but they would warm to the idea as they would see how much love we held for each other. Our parents would be the harder sell, especially my bro’s father. He was an Army brat and the thought of his son being in a homosexual relationship would initially send him into an emotional tailspin. But, while he was raised in such a conservative environment, he was also raised with an appreciation of the beauty of love, in all of its form. When my bro and I end up marrying in Vermont, my bro’s dad would give him away.  My bro and I would end up getting a little house in small New England community. My bro would eventually run for city council. He would serve for three terms before he would attempt to run for mayor. It would be a hard fought race, but ultimately, he would not be elected because of the nostalgia held for the incumbent by the large population of elderly residents. But if our love would teach us anything, it is that life doesn’t always go as you expect.
Now that we would be afforded more time, with my bro now in the private sector and my organic vegetable business really booming and my assistant, Craig, taking more initiative and allowing me more free time, we would decide to adopt from China. Through the blessings of the world, we would end up with twin girls that we would name Sophie and Leslie. They would be the talk of the town for weeks because, as Edna, the local post lady would put it, “They are just TOO adorable.” Sophie would end up at John Hopkins, studying medicine and Leslie would become a missionary in China, hoping to grant the girls there the same opportunities she was afforded. My bro and I would grow old together; eventually we would retire in Florida. We would acknowledge the cliché of retiring in Florida. But sadly, as my family has no history any major illness and heart disease having taken my bro’s grandfather and father, my bro would die and I would grieve him and I would bury him. But I would never forget him, as I continued to grow older. That is what I would do for my bro.