DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I have a friend who’s overly endowed in the penis area. He somehow makes this fact known in every situation that he seems to be in, which is his prerogative, but when it encroaches on myself and my own actions, it drives me crazy and in the past has led to a potential love interest getting redirected in his direction.
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He claims it’s not his fault, but I believe that he uses his endowment as a legit reason to push himself into the middle of everything. He seems to think he’s more important than anybody else because of his gift. I find this to be complete bulls—t personally. But the way that society works these days, people always gravitate towards whatever seems to be bigger and better.
I know that that us advice you’re probably going to give is just to say stop being friends with this person and move on. And if it truly is that simple, that’s exactly what I will do. At the same time, I feel like I’m the best friend he has ever had and I might feel like a jerk for just abandoning him. But as a wingman I still feel like it’s unfair when he touts his attributes seemingly from the rooftops all the time, when he could handle it differently and incorporate me into the whole scheme, you know, up talk me a little bit to people and give me some props. But I never get any goddamn props, I always get leftovers. Makes me want to put my fist through a wall to be honest.
He’s The (Brat)Wurst
DEAR HE’S THE (BRAT)WURST: OK, once again I will reiterate my standard policy on fake letters: I generally catch the obvious fakes, but I’m not terribly fussed when someone manages to sneak one by me. Most letters are theoretical (and thus, functionally not real) to everyone but the letter writer as it is, but if there’s a lesson that other folks can take away from a potential fake, I find that value to be greater than the supposed “gotcha” of someone managing to slip one by.
Case in point: this letter. A lot of people have had experiences dealing with That One Friend and/or penis anxiety in general, so we’ll roll with it for a moment.
Let’s take the ongoing chorus of “Enormous Penis” out of the equation here and focus on this guy’s actual behavior. The long and short of it is very simple: whether he’s got a huge willy or not, he’s acting like a massive tool. It’s the cliche of “God give me the confidence of a mediocre white man” writ large, where he’s decided to make himself the center of attention at all times, regardless of the people around him or without consideration for either his supposed goals (being a good bro and wingman) or whether folks want to hear about his theoretically ginormous schwanz.
This is one of the times when we run into the difference between being confident and being an arrogant, pushy asshat. Someone who’s confident doesn’t feel the need to brag, boast or otherwise try to direct attention to his moneymaker. It’s not that confidence is always quiet and assured, but there’s not really a need to brag when you know what you’ve got, you know what you’re worth, and you know what you’re capable of. As a general rule, the louder that someone proclaims their vaunted superiority in some area, especially when it’s not relevant, the less secure they are about it… or in other areas, where they’re (ahem) overcompensating. It’s often about a need for attention and – importantly – validation. If it’s not about the thing they’re bragging about, it’s often an attempt to draw attention away from other inadequacies. Big d--k energy, as it were, is usually displayed as unwavering confidence other areas, not in loud braggadocio.
It’s not as though that confident and secure people can’t be loud and obnoxious, but much of it really comes down to “put-up-or-shut-up” time. LeBron or Jordan may be masters of trash-talk, but it’s talk that they can back up and do so, regularly. They’re among the GOATs precisely because they have the skills that make them the elite among the elite. The trash talk is baked into the competition, a challenge of skill – the declaration that “if you come at the king you better not miss.” Just rolling up on people with “what up I got a big d--k” isn’t the same, certainly not unless he’s in a literal d--k-measuring contest.
(Now, I will give some credit here: sometimes it’s just severely misplaced confidence. A lot of guys who legitimately have large penises tend to think of themselves as God’s gift to women. Most of them tend to be lousy in bed, in no small part because they’ve convinced themselves that size is the only thing they need to bring to the table. So foreplay becomes something that happens to other people, the g-spot is where they hang out listening to Snoop Dog and the clitoris is a piece of equipment they’ve never seen but they’re pretty sure isn’t necessary anyway and they miss the bored and pained expression on their partners’ faces while they jackhammer away. Meanwhile, 70-90% of women can’t orgasm through penetration, so Johnny WangDoodle ain’t got the stroke game he thinks.)
The bigger issue however, is that he’s a boor, a bore and a snore. Rolling into conversations with “oh, have I mentioned that every time I get an erection I nearly pass out because it needs all the blood in my body” has all the charm, poise and believability of Danny DeVito pointedly “accidentally” dropping a Magnum condom. For the folks around him it’s about as welcome as morning wood while trying to pee or something sus prodding your lower back on a crowded subway. And that’s before we get into the fact that he’s neither a good friend nor a good wingman. A wingman’s entire job is to support his or her friend. That means helping clear a path, handle logistics, provide moral and emotional support and be the Flavor Flav to their buddy’s Chuck D. This is something that is supposed to go both ways; you support and prop them up, they do the same for you. If all this guy is doing is dominating conversations in unwelcome ways, turning the topic to him and otherwise blowing up a promising connection, then he’s not being a wingman. At best, he’s a grenade with the pin about to fall out at any moment. At worst, he’s a poacher. And none of it makes for being a good friend.
Now all this having been said: this isn’t about the world “gravitating to the bigger and better”. Trust me, the only people who care that much about penis size are straight cis men. This isn’t about the world catering to him, it’s about this guy being loud and obnoxious and getting all the attention… even though most of the attention is “who the hell is this freak and why is he going on about his wang?”
This is an area where, if you think it would be worth it, you should have a very long, and firm conversation about his behavior, how it bothers other people and how it affects you. Because, as with most cases, it’s not that he “can’t help it”. If he’s not acting like the big swinging d--k to, say, his boss, his teachers or the cops? He absolutely can. He’s doing it with you because you let him get away with it. Once he gets his d--k knocked into the dirt, I suspect that that tune would change.
But if he doesn’t want to listen (presumably because the blood rushed away from his brain after thinking about Sydney Sweeney in a micro-bikini), then the best thing you can do is get a better class of friends. You may be the best friend he’s ever had, but he’s decidedly not returning the favor. He’s being an absolute knob to you and the people around you. That’s on him, and you don’t have any obligation to hang around just because you’re the only one who tolerates him. If he doesn’t want to alienate people and drive friends away, he can stop acting like a bellend.
So have a word with this friend-who-definitely-exists and if he doesn’t or won’t listen? He can go spend his time with his buddies John Thomas and the twins and be with people who might actually appreciate his schlock. Or his schlong.
Good luck.
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Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com