We live in a world brimming with beta males. The number of overconfident radicals declaring jihad on fine ass are on a distinct decline; they have been replaced by effeminate security blankets. The keepers of the friend zone are all around us, whether you know it or not. Chances are, you have several among your rank and file. A select few of you may even reside with one.
Contrary to popular opinion, their presence is not an omen of dry spells and coming in last place. While these sexual apathists rival the Swiss in terms pacifism, I would venture so far as to posit that they are hands down the best roommates on the planet. You may be asking yourself, “What the fuck did he just say?” so let me break down some of the reasons I believe this to be the case.
“Come on, Mav. Do some pilot shit.”
It’s not every day that you run into a Goose. Someone who encourages you to shine like the shitfaced diamond you are. Someone who naturally puts people at ease with the sheer grandiosity of his social awkwardness. The natural bumblefuck. Someone whose very presence alone makes women feel less uncomfortable and more bubbly. We all have that one buddy Todd. He’s a seasoned pro at hitting on chicks at bars. Unfortunately, an all-out approach almost always brings an all-out defense. Todd pales as a wingman in comparison to the ace up your sleeve. Any guy who irons every single article of clothing he is going to wear before going out is never viewed as a threat to a woman’s bajingo. I’m not sure what the opposite of “potential sexual partner” is, but it’s probably “beta male.” This gives you the perfect window of opportunity. He neutralizes the alarm; you infiltrate the perimeter. He’s the Q to your Sean Connery era Bond.
“We need more lemon pledge.”
Passive guys are very organized and clean. They toil against the second law of thermodynamics in futile fashion — much like I did trying to learn chemistry. This extends to most areas of their life: romantic, professional, social. This brings with it a huge advantage to living with them. That party you had last night where the tap exploded all over your kitchen and Steve Holt puked on your golf clubs? Hakuna Matata, bitch. By the time you wake up, all traces of last night’s fuckery will have been drowned in a healthy dose of Pine-Sol. Your living, breathing Consuela of a roommate? Probably already drinking mimosas with his girlfriends at brunch.
In addition to being organized and clean, for some unbeknownst reason, they also tend to be excellent with food. Where my trips to the grocery store typically yield a case of beer, some Gushers, and cheap shit to grill, his Whole Foods yield consists of fine cheeses, exotic meats, and wines with names more unpronounceable than the cast of the Passion of the Christ. This characteristic is particularly huge, because as everyone already knows, great cooks are extremely prideful of their work, and are very eager to share their creations. Patagonian sea bass with citrus olive sauce beats the hell out of Qdoba any day of the week. But I’ll still probably drench that fucker in Cholula.
There is something to be said for the sublime nature of a beta male. At times, they can be snobby. At times, they can nag. At times, they can be clingy. But most of the time, they are just eerily maternal.
Coming from a man-child with a latent drinking problem, it tends to work out pretty well..
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