Losing a Beta Friend (no pun, it reads beta)

We will call him Loser – he is. At 36, all he has accomplished is to have finished his college degree (last year) and has the ability to work out for four hours a day, even though his body doesn’t show. Living with his parents, he never had to work to buy any of the many cars he has had. When he told his mum he wanted to start riding a bike, she promptly offered to pay for his insurance (which is very expensive in Brazil), should something happen to his BMW motorcycle.

He is a whiny leftist too, who ‘fights’ for the minorities.

We became friends through a mutual girl-friend at a house party, in 2012. Upon deciding to hit a local nightclub later that night, I showed him how to approach a group of girls and he got obsessed with me, and wanted to be my friend at any cost.

I never actually saw him picking any girls up, but he’d always tell me he did. About two years ago he texted me and some other friends saying that he was in a serious relationship and had to delete his Facebook, Whatsapp, etc. Loser simply disappeared… until recently.

Loser reactivated his Facebook account and got in touch, inviting me for a beer, which he insisted to buy. There, he told me how he’d broken up with his girlfriend because she was a mental girl who wanted to control and force him to stay away from all his friends, that she would slap and scratch him if he didn’t comply to her wishes. He also told me he started taking Jiu Jitsu. This was in January 2016. Since then, he’d often invite me out for a beer and would insist on paying – almost as a bribe for his dull companionship.

Around October, I met a girl at a nightclub and brought her back home. After F-Bombing her in all forms you can possibly imagine (like a whore), I suggested we had a threesome with another girl. On the very next day she had a friend lined up, which we took to a bar and to a Motel after. What a resourceful girl this Nightclub Pick Up turned out to be. I decided to let her come visit sometimes; we’d drink, fuck and then she’d take a Uber back home. Even though she was short and cute, I didn’t like her spending the night because she was a nester, besides being a little bit mental. Still, she was the giver of the best (maybe second best) blowjob I’ve ever had.

One night she texted me asking if she could come over; I told her I wouldn’t want to see her anymore because I was going out with some other girl. Nightclub Pick Up then took a Uber to my doorstep, rang the bell and asked if we could talk. Even though I found that weird, I still talked to her, outside, and politely told her to fuck off. Because of her attitude of knocking on my door, I blocked her from all social medias.

It was two months ago that Loser and I had just stepped into a bar when it all happened. Nightclub Pick Up was standing in a corner near the entrance, surrounded by her girlfriends. She was looking at our direction in awe; I pointed a finger at her, with a smile on my face, as if saying ‘I see you,’ but continued walking towards the inside of the bar; Nightclub Pick Up, still with a shocked look on her face, waved back in response; Loser, who was right behind me, asked, ‘let’s go to another bar? My ex girlfriend is here.’ 

So we turned around and left.

Outside, I received a message saying ‘I never imagined you’d run from me,‘ from an unsaved number. I looked at Loser and he too was reading a message he’d just received. I was laughing inside, trying to control it, thinking of the shocking look she had on her face when she saw both of us walking in together.

The dilemma then was whether I should tell him, and I opted to do so, because I figured it’d be worse if he found out later through some cunning tactics Mental Nightclub Pick Up could apply.

Since there is no easy way of doing this, I told him plainly, when we were driving towards some other bar.

Look, I’ve been out with this girl a few times, but I would never have imagined she was your ex.’

Then I showed him the messages she had just sent, and how she was not even saved in my contact list. He asked me when it happened and then he said, that he wanted to go home.

I don’t like fucking ex-girlfriends,’ He stated in a crying voice.

Alright,’ I replied, ‘I’ll drop you off. I understand you are upset, but this was non-intentional and you can’t blame me for it.

If the same had happened to me, I would have said something like, ‘she gives good head, doesn’t she?’ and forget about it all. Or maybe even send her a photo of us both, asking ‘which one did you like better?’ or even ‘whose dick is bigger?’ But Loser was almost crying over a crazy ex, while riding in my car.

I dropped him off.

On the next day, I messaged him to ask how he was doing; he had already blocked me from Facebook and Whatsapp. He told our mutual friend that the problem is with him (obviously) but he feels like punching me. I’d like to have him try. Although he is bigger and stronger, he’d be very slow. Him having taken only BJJ wouldn’t be enough to take on me. I’d lower my base and try to connect an upper cut, if he went for my legs. If he managed to take me down, I’d try to tire him before attempting a sweep or submission. I am comfortable fighting from my back.

We met again, by chance. I was upstairs at a bar on a first date when he walked up to use the toilet. He must have heard my voice because he turned to look at my direction. I was laughing at a joke I had just made when I saw him, fist clenched staring at me. As we locked eyes, I nodded at him, a nod that said both ‘hey there’ and ‘bring it on’. Loser looked away and waited for his turn to use the toilet. I was wondering if he’d have the courage to charge at me when he walked out.

After he finished using the toilet, he walked down, carefully looking at his shoes.


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