The White Knight according to PaulRyan.

Back when I was 18 I got into a little situation. Me and my buddy were seeing these two girls and each of us had become a little bored with our respective conquests. There was nothing wrong with them at all, but the familiar had become the mundane. We got to talking and we realized that each of us were quite taken with the other guy’s girl. A swap was in order but we were unsure of how to pull it off. While trying to work out how best to orchestrate such a tactical maneuver we made the mistake of seeking advice from another guy in our group.

A showdown was set but we didn’t know it.

The five of us went out to get a drink in a local bar. The two girls, me and my mate, and this third guy. For the sake of brevity let’s just call him PaulRyan and be done with it. We get to the bar and we grab an outside table. It’s a nice summer day, hot and sticky. We order a round of drinks and then suddenly the two girls get up and go off to the bathroom. Nothing is said to this unremarkable occurrence. The three of us sat there and drank our beers while we scoped out the crowd.

PaulRyan seemed nervous.

The girls were taking a long time. A really long time. We could see the bathroom from where we were sitting and there weren’t many people going in and out. My mate and I began to wonder what the hell they were up to.

PaulRyan didn’t seem nervous anymore. In fact, he had a shit-eating grin.

I asked him if he knew what was up. He gave me a nondescript answer in a mocking tone. I became alert and demanded that he tell me what was going on. He replied that I shouldn’t say nasty things about girls if I wanted to keep them. Now my mate began to get angry. He demanded to know what PaulRyan had said to the girls. He spread his arms in a gesture of mock-innocence while openly laughing at us.

I spotted the girls walking back to our table. They looked quietly determined. My mate’s girl folded her arms and asked us if the two of us had anything to say. I replied that I would indeed say something if I had any idea what the fuck was going on. My mate had a pure look of panic on his face. PaulRyan was smug.

Bit by bit the truth came out. PaulRyan had gone to my girl the day before and had disclosed everything that my mate and I had said to him about the situation. He had added many embellishments, half-truths, and outright lies. Not only that but he had included every single piece of ‘guy talk’ that the three of us had ever said concerning the girls in question. He must have been taking notes for weeks. My mate kept trying to desperately sort out the lies from the truth as he scrambled to salvage the situation.

I sat there the whole time while my girl spoke without saying a word.

My mate’s girl had had no idea of the situation – that was what the epic bathroom break had been about as my girl had brought her up to speed on the situation. The two of them finally finished reciting our catalog of crimes and demanded to hear our explanations for our dastardly behavior.

Queue a long and desperate grovelling from my mate as he prostrated himself before the two of them in an abject display designed to recover as much favor as humanly possible. PaulRyan made cutting remarks at various intervals in an attempt to undermine this recovery which my mate not only sought to address but seemed to actually take seriously. The situation was bizarre. It was as if the two of us were the defendants in the dock with our girls standing as our accusers while PaulRyan was the judge of all that was occurring, notwithstanding the fact that it was his traitorous behavior which had caused this entire episode in the first place.

Around us the outdoor bar went about its business as the crowds of people laughed and drank, seemingly oblivious to the desperate drama playing out before them.

Finally my mate grovelled himself to a state of exhaustion and there was a brief silence. The girls turned to me, haughty and supercilious looks on their faces, and they demanded to hear my own explanation.

I told the three of them that they could go and fuck themselves. Pointing at PaulRyan I demanded to know his own personal motivations for orchestrating this ridiculous event. I launched an all-out attack at his actions and shady character. I said to the girls that if they believed his poisonous cocktail of lies and half-truths then that was their problem, not mine. I told them that if they thought that he was doing this out of the goodness of his own heart then they were seriously fucking deluded. Not only did I not admit anything, I refused to even address the liturgy of crimes to which I stood accused.

I finished my brief tirade with a short speech concerning ‘guy talk’ and ‘girl talk’. I stated that I had no doubt that the two of them had also had many private conservations about my mate and I and that if the nature of those conversations were disclosed in public by a third female then they would not only be rather embarrassed but they would have to seriously question the primary motivation for someone to do such a thing.

Finally I pointed to PaulRyan who by now had a slightly worried expression on his face. I stated that he was an untrustworthy individual and a disgrace to men everywhere. I came up with some glorious remarks concerning his sniveling Quisling status which caused the girls to giggle, much to his supreme alarm and displeasure.

And then I stood up, finished my beer, and pointed at PaulRyan.

“Your round, fuckhead,” I said.

Then I turned to my girl. “If you believe him then you deserve him,” I said and then I walked out of there.

She shacked up with him that night. My mate did indeed manage to salvage his own relationship but it didn’t last long seeing as he had gone from ‘studly man held in high regard’ to ‘desperate and pleading beta male’ in one afternoon.

And PaulRyan? He stayed in the periphery of our group, lurking around and picking up scraps like a stray dog. He showed a habit of moving in on my ex-girlfriends soon after they had dumped my sorry ass. I had no doubt that in a few of those occasions he had been whispering words of encouragement before the breakup. He was the classic white knight, prepared to say or do anything to undermine the men around him for his own gain.

Otherwise known as a real piece of untrustworthy shit. There are a few of them out there in the world.

5 thoughts on “The White Knight according to PaulRyan.

  1. Not sure the analogy is precise, other than your PaulRyan and the Wisconsin Paul Ryan pretend to virtue. The Wisconsin Paul Ryan suffers from a number of things addling him: (1) he’s an advocate of open borders, and the Trump movement is thus the enemy; and (2) after much time in Washington (and, perhaps, much time among a certain sort at all times of his life), he flinches in the face of media sh**storms. He’s been an abject failure in the position he currently holds, because he’s a poltroon.

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  2. One other point: I think the term “White Night” does not typically refer to men on the make, but rather a man who cannot conceive of women being called to account for anything, thus given to treating them indulgently or blaming their transgressions on the nearest male. In the U.S., the White Night tends to be an evangelical type, who isn’t necessarily out for anything (but to pat himself on the back, perhaps).

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    1. Then you’re contradicting everything that I have read and heard on this topic within the manosphere. A white Knight is most definitely out for something. He attempts to woo the lady of his desires by back-door platitudes. He rides to her defense so that she will think of him as her savior and fall for him. This is very established terminology.

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