When I was growing up, I had always wanted to join a fraternity when I went to college. I knew all the associated stigmas. The guys were supposedly all a bunch of roided out douche bags and under-achieving drunks with a few closet homosexuals thrown in. Then you’ve also got the idea that you’re paying money for friends (all of which turned out to have a great deal of truth to it). But as a horny 18 year old eager to break into the university scene and get his first college bang, I was willing to accept those costs as long as one sacred fraternal promise held true: Easy pussy.
Upon my arrival at a large 2nd tier university notorious for it’s party school reputation, I sought out the process of joining a fraternity, a process called Rush. I remember touring all the different fraternity houses and meeting a variety of guys. You had your stand-offish bros who clearly didn’t want to be there. They knew that their fraternity was one of the best ones on campus and they were going to pull a big pledge class no matter what so they didn’t feel a need to be friendly to the new prospects like me. Then you had your guys that were drunk off their ass and/or stoned out of their mind so were clearly not going to have a recollection of the conversation you had with them or who the hell you were for that matter. But you also had a good deal of cool guys who were just looking to get the most out of the college experience that they found themselves in.
And then you had the girls. The purpose of their attendance at these Rush events was to showcase the fraternity’s collective ability to pull. An ability that will in no doubt rub off on any new member that wishes to join their ranks and adopt the pre-selected status symbol of being a Sigma Chi, Kappa Sig, or Pi Kapp. This was an environment where the best way to get laid was to just wear a T shirt that had your fraternity’s Greek letters on it (unless you were a low-tier fraternity but more on that later). If you were in a top-tier fraternity, it was best practice to head over to the bar around 5PM, wear your fraternity T shirt, and let the sorority girls swoon over you. If you were president of a top-tier fraternity, you could sit back and enjoy a year of status, status, and more status doing all the work for you.
It was an amazing way to live.
Or at least it would have been had I joined a top-tier fraternity. I opted to join a group based solely on the fact that I already knew some of the guys who were members. I didn’t do my due diligence on the organization’s reputation and how they were perceived by the community on campus. Although I had a great college experience, made awesome friendships that exist to this day, and had my fair share of hooking up, a part of me will always regret my short-sighted fraternity decision. We weren’t really low-tier, we were more like low/middle-tier, but nevertheless, it was like choosing to be a barista when I could have been a rockstar. I can recall many a night on Greek row looking on in envy as dozens of beautiful girls poured in and out of the neighboring fraternity houses while our parties remained a sausage fest. It left a taste so bitter that I would not wish it on my worst enemy.
It wasn’t all bad. We had our girls and we had our fun. At the time of graduation, I had banged a dozen or so girls throughout my tenure, I just had to do some extra work to compensate for the mediocre status my Greek letters gave me. But when I compare stories with men who were of perceived better fraternal stock, I hear sexcapades not far off from what you might hear of an A list celebrity. The whole experience taught me the role that status plays in the dating market. It was simple. If you were a member of a group that was perceived as higher value, you had an easier time getting laid. If you were a member of a group with a perceived lower value, you had more obstacles to overcome. It was classic Alpha Fucks / Beta Bucks played out in fraternity world.
One hard lesson in AF / BB (years before I had heard of the concept) particularly stands out in my memory. I was fresh into my fraternity experience, no older than 19, and was having a few drinks with my newfound comrades. One of the girls who frequently came around took it upon herself to explain the role that our group was supposedly destined to play out in college and throughout the rest of our lives. It was more of an offhand remark really, she hadn’t put much thought into it but was merely making an observation. Her intention was not to offend or offput, but simply to acknowledge. However, to this day, it remains the most insulting thing a woman has ever said to me.
“I like hanging out with you, because you are the guys that girls want to marry.”
She said this to us as a group, referencing our entire fraternity as a pool of future Beta providers. I already knew that most of the men addressed by the comment weren’t getting consistent sex unless they were already in relationships. Most were just getting it in a couple times a year whenever the stars and planets aligned, myself included. We didn’t really have control over our own sex lives. We resigned to “getting lucky” once in awhile. It was implied that for us, the only path to steady, regular sex was to sign away our freedom and enlist in a serious relationship with a girl who was “realistically” in our league.
I looked around the room and saw hopeful, content smiles and approving nods from the men who heard the comment. They were happy to accept their station in life. Happy to wife up a woman after she had taken her ride on the cock carousel, gained 15 pounds, and became host to three different venereal diseases. It didn’t occur to them that the high status men received all the benefits their girl had to offer without having to get any of the bullshit that came with being in a serious relationship with her.
Even though still young and inexperienced, I was not as pleased as my friends were with this pre-determined role that the community, somewhat a microcosm of society at large, had given us. It was years before I had heard of Red Pill philosophy, the Manosphere, or Game, yet I couldn’t help but think I was getting some kind of a raw deal here.
From what I could tell, it seemed like the agreement was this: After the girls had their fun partying and sleeping around with the big men on campus, that’s when our turn came. When she was ready to settle down, there we were ready and willing to provide her with the emotional investment and boyfriend support she desired after she had her fun being passed around by the other fraternities. Of course, she would have preferred to date a man of higher status, but she was unable to lock him down due to his abundant options and her declining reputation. So she turned to us. A large majority of the older guys in my fraternity already had girlfriends, most of which were either plain-jane, portly looking women or cute whores that eventually cheated on them. Was this my fate as well?
I think it would have been. But fortunately, it wasn’t much longer until I discovered Game. By employing the new mentality and concepts I was learning, I freed myself of a dismal future where I surely would have settled down with a covertly promiscuous woman just so I could have consistent sex.
As for the girl who made the insulting comment, I went on to sleep with her many times throughout college. And when she turned on the pressure to date her, it was no sweat to brush her off and enjoy the other women that my Game was starting to bring in. Through Game, I discovered a means of lifelong self-improvement, gaining control over my own sex life, and not resigning to the idea of getting lucky. I make my own luck now.
It is an amazing way to live.