Summary: Hookup with a girl at a party who was attached to a white knight, he finds out we hooked up, raises hell, she claims I forced her into it to spare her image.

I'm digging this story out of my past because I believe it illustrates a few important points that get thrown around here. This isn't a field report of the same vein as those penned by viking warrior and machiavellian /u/OmLaLa in which he razes villages and masterfully fucks women, no, /u/foxzy was pinned down in a foxhole with a HB6 taking a shit on his boots.

Background Information:

When I was a sophomore in college I decided to join a fraternity, I'd torn my labrum and given up on the dream that was playing college football at a D1 school and I assumed it would be a good way to meet girls and network in preparation for my future. So I pledged, joined and for the first few weeks had the time of my life.

Cast:

Myself: at this point I was somewhere between chad and beta. Could get the girls I didn't care about easily, repulsed the ones who I cared too much about, mostly irrelevant but I had to introduce myself.

Jane: Girl at the party (read spineless expletive)

Jeff: Jane's date for the party, Jane is his oneitis, physically small and very beta young gentleman.

Act 1: First BIG party of the year at the fraternity, Autumn of 2013

I was heavily intoxicated (mistake 1), horny, and looking to settle for a girl since my oneitis and date for the night had left. Saw Jane alone on a couch watching the party wrap up, no previous interaction with her (didn't know who her date was or if she had one, and didn't care), so I moved in. It's been too long to remember exactly what I said or did but I remember escalating with the line "would you like to see my bedroom", and every girl in the world knows exactly what the fuck that means, and she agreed. Boom, we're in. Take her to my bedroom, start to get busy with her and she stops my escalation after she'd put her hand down my pants and played around a bit which followed alot of making out, with the line "I can't to this to Jeff" (who the fuck is Jeff, alright). Fine by me, I don't need her and I don't press the issue, I figure she'll leave, I'll beat off and go to bed because I'm too drunk and too lazy at this point to put in the effort to seduce a girl that the little sober voice in the back of my head knows for damn sure is at best a HB6.

Act 2: "Hell Hath No Fury Like a Beta Man Scorned"

Fast forward to the next afternoon, Jeff has been told that his date (his pretty little oneitis) had been led to my room that night by someone who had seen us and 'allegedly' heard the noises of our makeout session. Jeff can't confront me obviously, I'm 6'5" and made of muscle and he is 5'9" and made of straw, so he settles for the next best thing: confronting Jane. So he calls Jane up, and in all his righteous beta fury says something along the lines of "how could you do this to me?!!!!! I demand an explanation" and so Jane, not wanting to seem like a slut (I assume) tells him that I forced myself on her (still not sure what exactly she said that I did), absolving herself of all blame (women lack agency in their actions, she cannot be accountable) and hamsters this away as being an acceptable thing to do. So Jeff, again in righteous fury, tells the higher up members of the fraternity what Jane had told him and I'm called into a meeting to be told that I'm being dropped from the fraternity.

No charges are pressed because obviously she doesn't want her lie to go that far (THANK FUCKING GOD) but the lessons are as follows:

  1. Beware of white-knight betas and the lengths they'll go to, to protect the image they have of their love interests.
  2. AWALT: she's not accountable for any of her actions to the point of sociopathy, she'd rather potentially ruin my life than be viewed as a slut or have her beta orbiter think less of her.
  3. Don't get too drunk and don't settle, you're better than that.
  4. Consent is a scary fucking thing, do your best to protect yourself however you deem necessary even if that means forgoing sex.
  5. A pretty girl who cries wolf will almost always be believed, thanks feminism! When you are accused of something by a girl, the burden of proof lies upon your head to prove your innocence, and not hers to prove your guilt, both in a court of law and ESPECIALLY in a court of peers.