By now, you've probably heard about Bros Icing Bros, the latest ingenious drinking game/viral marketing coup to hit the frat scene.
No one is exactly sure who started it. Could be some random kids, or Smirnoff Ice itself. It's almost too good to come from corporate.
Here's how it works: A frat guy (also known as a Bro) named, say, Sam, will present another frat guy, who we'll call Evan, with a "delicious" Smirnoff Ice. Sam will typically say something like "YOU GOT ICED, BRO!"
According to Bro code, Evan must immediately drop to one knee and chug the Smirnoff Ice, regardless of the surroundings. This could happen at the mall, bar, frat house or even a wedding. It only works with Smirnoff Ice ...
But -- and this is a huge "but" -- if Evan already happens to have an unopened Smirnoff Ice on him, he will show it to Sam, and Sam has to drop to one knee and chug them both. That's called a "double icing." Double icings are dastardly.
The New York Times even did a story about this, which had the hilarious headline "Popular New Drinking Game Raises Question, Who's 'Icing' Whom?"
I bring this all up because this past weekend, a few of us were talking about it during Dundalk Bar Crawl III: Return of the Midnight Sunners. We were at the Gray Manor Inn (2816 North Point Road) when I slyly asked our bartender for a Smirnoff Ice.
When I got it, I whipped around, thrust it in Evan's face and yelled "YOU GOT ICED, BRO!" We all howled as Evan dropped to one knee and chug-a-lugged the sharp, cold beverage.
At our next stop, the Left Field Pub (3818 North Point Blvd.), I had stepped outside to watch a guy get arrested for allegedly pushing someone's mother on the dance floor when Midnight Sunner Shankman tapped me on the shoulder.
"You'd better watch your back, man," he said. "I think Evan's looking to ice you."
Using the skills I learned from playing flashlight tag as a kid, I snuck around the outside of the building to the other door, and crept up to the bar. I could see Evan across the room, but I couldn't see any Smirnoff Ices in his hand. Still, I wasn't taking any chances. I hid behind a regular, who must have thought I was about to jump someone, until I got the bartender's attention. My heart was racing.
"Gimme a Smirnoff Ice," I said. It was $3 and change. I handed her a five, hid the Smirnoff Ice behind my back and strutted around the bar.
When Evan saw me, he held up his Smirnoff Ice and started laughing. I said "Oh yeah?" and whipped out my own Smirnoff Ice.
Evan's screams echoed inside the Left Field Pub.
(AP photo)