Not to gloat over my prowess at uncovering the world’s cringeworthiest beta males, but I think you readers will find it particularly difficult in this edition of Beta of the Month to stare at these train wrecks without averting your eyes.
BOTM Candidate #1 is a Rainman Jr. looking guy who earned his FIRST HUG (after four years dating) on the day he proposed to his girlfriend. Aww. Slow down, Romeo!
6/10, would hug. She’s wearing sunglasses to hide her shame and contempt.
In the interest of fair and balanced shivving, maybe the guy is sniggering like a retard because he’s already boffed this chick and he likes the feeling of getting one over on her oblivious dad. But judging by that disrespectful boner protruding in his pants, I’m guessing this tiny amount of physical contact is the first he’s received since his umbilical cord caressed his neck. So for the sake of BOTM continuity, let’s just call it and state unequivocally that this beta is loping into marriage on the basis of a platonic side hug. And is that a wallet he’s holding? At least he knows he’s gonna have to pay up to get a hug on the other side that maybe, if he’s lucky!, includes a brief tit brush, tastefully clothed.
Poor bastard. He has no idea the hell matrix that awaits him.
It takes a special kind of beta male delusion to conduct one’s personal affairs in the belief that marriage will open the pearled pink gates of sex. If your girlfriend can successfully parry your irresistible betaboy charms for FOUR FUCKING YEARS and reward you with a hardcore side hug the second you promise her an early retirement plan option, then it’s a good bet she can easily glide through another twenty years of sexless (that is, sexless with you) marriage once she has a ring on it and any incentive for good behavior from her has been removed from her consideration.
A young(ish) woman saving herself for marriage is not necessarily a bad thing in the big civilizational scheme of things, but she should at least be showing signs of sweating hard to restrain her base impulses while in your company. If it looks like she’s happy parceling out tidbits of affection you can get from your mom with less effort, you had better not think that marriage to her is somehow going to magically cause her desire for you to erupt like Mount Vaginius. Marriage is just a dotted line and the smoking barrel of the state apparatus pointed at your head; it’s not an aphrodisiac that can make a woman suddenly tingle for the timid twig of a beta male.
BOTM Candidate #2, submitted by reader Matt, is a manlet who… um… well… yeah, I’m having trouble typing this out. The mere motion of tapping my fingers into legible patterns that describe this hapless creature might transmogrify my hands into clawed, chronically fap-worn vestiges of scalzification syndrome. But, I soldier on. The dude is on his knees begging for forgiveness from his girlfriend in public, who can’t stop slapping him in the face in front of gawking onlookers. The craven puling he vomits defies every tenet of manhood, not to mention good taste.
The video is too grotesque to be staged. Yes, this guy is really on his knees, in the public square getting slapped around by his frail Asian girlfriend for some transgression that may or may not involve another woman or perhaps a Pokemon hug pillow, and bawling like a baby. What’s going on with the other girl standing next to her? Is she keeping away good samaritans? Providing color commentary? Moral support?
“You hit him real now, You no exist to him. You take that? Harder, hit harder! I want… I mean you want to see his shame burn in his face like a three day sake bender.”
Asians are weird.
We laugh at stuff like this because it helps ease our discomfort. You see, beta males and their antics are inherently discomfiting to the human senses. This is why we cringe when we see a beta male profusely apologize to his battle-axe girlfriend for some minor mistake, or a beta suck-up who wears “This is what a feminist looks like” t-shirts, or a beta orbiter who listens attentively while his unknowing dreamgirl dumps her problems with her boyfriend on him. The behavior of the beta male violates some universal law, or some deeply ingrained neurological module that goes code red when an expected sex role is turned on its head. It’s the same feeling one might get seeing an everyday and familiar object that would exist in the state of nature deformed into a monstrous aberration.
Conversely, when we see a charismatic alpha male handle his woman with expert care, and refuse to bow and scrape for scraps of female approval (or for stays of female punishment) when he has done her wrong, or not quite done her right enough, we relax. We exhale. We smile contentedly. We do this because such a scene means that everything is right with the world. Everything is cool. This is normal and the sun will not explode tomorrow.
I propose a new emoticon for sackless beta males:
Note the micropeen and vague vaginal evocation.
For those wondering why it’s not more correct to label these two candidates omega males rather than beta males, take stock that they at least have slender girls in their lives, in however limited a capacity. The typical omega male is either an involuntary celibate or a wiping implement for a blubbery land whale. The beta male has not reached the depths of loserdom that the omega male occupies. The problem with the beta male is that the prize he has managed to acquire keeps threatening to slip from his grasp. He lives in a constant state of fear and horror that his tenuous hold on his girl will fray, and she’ll sail into the arms of a better man.
In some way, the beta male is worse off than the omega male. Many omegas learn to accept their invisibility to women, and find contentment in dropping out of the mate race to pursue more readily available pleasures, like food or hobbies. Betas, in contrast, can see the ass ring dangling inches from their reach. So close, they are taunted constantly with plump juicy rewards, if they just try harder. And that is why they fail.