By Jeanmarie Tan

JUST look at the hetero joy on these guys' faces.

In the bromantic comedy I Love You, Man, newly-formed BFFs Peter Klaven (Paul Rudd) and Sydney Fife (Jason Segel) are having the best man date ever, screaming like giddy teens at a Rush concert.

But look right and you'll see the third wheel standing around - Peter's highly peeved fiancee Zooey, played by Rashida Jones.

What's wrong with this picture?

Well, in the context of the movie, Peter just bailed on their weekly HBO date night for a one-night-only gig by his and Sydney's favourite rock band.

She insists on tagging along with the boys, but ends up being ignored the whole time when Peter puts his bro before his, er, good ol' beloved.

I shouldn't have found her disgusted expression and follow-up expletive - over her boyfriend piggybacking on his boyfriend - so hysterically funny, because this could happen to any of us.

As an anti-bromantic, I'm just thankful I'll never have to share my man with another - especially not with someone as awful as Sydney Fife who isn't mature enough to have a real girlfriend, and judges your sex life.

My husband doesn't have or want a bromance because he thinks it's too Brokeback.

Contrary to the movie's theory that men who don't have any special homeys to hang with become clingy, he is well-adjusted, sociable and comfortable with expressing his feelings.

He had a buddy in school with whom he was joined at the hip, except at bedtime I hope. But once girlfriends came into the picture, it was never the same again.

And that's the way it should be.

I'm reasonable enough to realise that guys need guy time. Just not one-on-one bonding please, because I don't do love triangles, especially if the third party turns out to be real competition.

My husband has different 'bromances' for different situations - polytechnic bromances, soccer bromances and office bromances.

He even has a (straight) movie kaki who never fails to send him homo-erotic SMSes.

Remember that joke from Seinfeld about how people don't make new friends after 30? Well, that's even harder for men.

When planning our wedding, it took all of two seconds for me to decide that my two best gal pals - whom I've known since I was 12 - would be my maids of honour, standing by my side and sharing the bliss on my big day.

On the other hand, my husband didn't even have an official best man. He simply picked two mates who weren't exactly his greatest confidants to fill out the groomsmen roles.

A few years earlier, someone from my husband's soccer gang - rather randomly, in my opinion - asked him to be his best man.

I didn't even realise they were tight (they weren't). I can only pin it down to the fact that he was literally the best man for the job, considering he's the selfless, helpful and dependable type.

These days, I think he knows better than to be a one-man man because he's been burnt by likely candidates.

There was a particular dude from his workplace whom I half-teasingly referred to as his 'mistress'.

He was Sydney Fife-esque, only less cool, more out of shape and unable to score. I couldn't figure out what my husband saw in him as he only seemed to care about himself and was never friendly to me.

But the best part about a bromantic fling is that when it eventually runs its course, my best friend in the world will come back to his.

Ladies first, right?

This article was first published in The New Paper.