I used to do gymnastics. Weird since I'm 6'5, but yeah. So now my closest friend group is built primarily around people who I met there – in fact, my whole squad is made up of gymnasts and ex-gymnasts. We're a pretty well balanced group that hangs out often, but out of the six of us, there's only one white person and she's a girl. The rest of us are an assortment of minorities, blacks and mexicans and asians. So we still practice from time to time since the gymnasium has a five hour open gym session most times during the week, during which time most people go to socialize and do crazy tumbling shit that's not authorized during normal classes. We have an Asian guy in our squad, let's call him Joe. Skinny guy, stands at about 5'4 and weighs 120 soaking wet probably.
There's a lot of girls at open gym – all of the local cheerleaders come to practice stunting etc etc., anyway, it means that there's about a million in shape girls running around.
Joe (who has the confidence of Muhammad Ali, I kid you not) goes up to this girl one day (probably a HB8, maybe even a soft HB9) after we finish a tumbling pass: How are you doing, etc. etc., who do you cheer for, maybe you should hang out with us since we're going to Starbucks after blah blah
First words out of her mouth: I don't like short guys.
Cue a face of surprise, Joe shrugs and basically tells her to chill out, goes back to tumbling. She goes back to her group of friends, a few of them look over, they go back to stunting. Bum luck, she's a shallow bitch.
Fast forward three hours, Joe says let's go to Starbucks.
Everyone's tired, we agree. Gym is closing anyway, so it's cool. Everyone walks outside to the lot, most of my group heads for a minivan, me and Joe head for his car.
Unlocks the door, chirp chirp.
By now we get a few glances anyway. Joe, for literally no goddamn reason other than to get attention, removed the badges off of his red Scion FR-S and put Ferrari badges on there and then lowered it some. Cheaper than a kit car, but to most guys its and obvious and laughable fake. Nevertheless, we always get more than a few stares from ignorant people at the beach etc...so much so that I'm considering doing the same when I get an FR-S.
Anyway, we hear “...is that your car?”
If it isn't HB9, I'll be damned.
Joe says yeah.
She says, “...are you still going to Starbucks?”
Joe says yeah.
She says: “...cool, I'll come.”
We tell her there's not enough room, she says she'll meet us there, and we tell her we won't be there long anyway. Joe was already super salty anyway.
Nothing else happened, but that day, I realized that the Red Pill was right. I was 99% on the edge anyway (I had read this sub for a year, sidebar and all), but I didn't want to believe it. That event pushed me over.
Bitches don't love you, they love your status.