Quiff bros and bash

I had to kick myself as my family headed into our friendly neighborhood Safeway to do a little shopping on a recent evening after work. That’s because, as my husband hunted for a parking space, I began to stereotype a couple of college-age guys walking toward the store.

They were sporting bro tanks, shorts and identical haircuts—Google tells me the style is called a quiff. Think Justin Bieber trying to go for the James Dean look. What really got me were their expressionless faces. They looked ultra serious.

Where’s the rest of the Hamptons row crew? I thought. And why the game face?

Then, for a second, I felt like a jerk. They’re just college kids, I reminded myself.

I was once a Chico State student, and I recall a fair amount of derision from the locals, so I try to steer clear of that type of provincialism. Count me among those who can look beyond a lack of parking and piles of puke on the sidewalk to realize how this town benefits—both culturally and financially—from that body of residents.

Just inside the store, I started looking through a selection of strawberries and other fruit while my husband wrangled our 5-year-old into in a shopping cart. Though we were both distracted, we noticed those same guys—still stone-faced—now walking from the back of the store toward its entrance. Each was toting a plastic grocery basket.

They must be putting them back next to the door, I thought. To my surprise, however, they walked right out with them.

It took me a few seconds to realize they were straight-up stealing stuff in broad daylight. I’m a bit vertically challenged, so I didn’t see what was in their baskets. Turns out, according to my husband, who’s 6-foot-4, one of them had a 12-pack of Corona, a college-bro staple.

I was a little taken aback by their nerve.

I mean, I, too, was once in that period between high school and the legal drinking age. During that time, my friends and I did our share of idiotic stuff, including having someone older buy us alcohol. But we never acted like privileged little twerps by taking something we could easily afford. That’s next-level arrogance.

By the time I realized what these clowns were doing, they were just about out of sight of the newly employed security guard who’d been on the other side of the store. If there’s a next time, I hope they get nailed.

Fortunately, as far as I can tell, entitled quiff bros seem to be a minority of the student body. Consider that if you run across a herd of them doing dumb stuff.

Reminder: As I noted a few weeks ago, this newspaper turns 40 years old this month. To mark the occasion, we’re holding a block party on Aug. 26, a Saturday afternoon, at the back entrance to our headquarters at Second and Flume streets. The shindig is a celebration of that milestone, but it’s also meant to thank those who’ve supported us through the years, from our advertisers and readers to our contributing writers and former staffers.

Whether you attend for the free live music and prize giveaways or to celebrate independent journalism, we hope to see you there.