“If you die, I’m bringing a date to your funeral”
Alpha as ƒuck.
For a moment, try to dissociate the words this girl said from the real subtextual message she's conveying. These are the words of a 26 y.o. woman who's staring down the barrel of a gun. She's pretty (we assume), she's self-entitled and self-important, however, as with most girls in her condition and her phase of life she knows the party years are going to be drawing to a close in as few as 3 years. This is the anxiety of the Wall.
Women are intimately aware that their sexual value and marketability decrease as they age. For the most part women tamp this fact down into their subconsciousness into a state of willful obliviousness while they're young, but at or around 26 to 27 they become forced to consciously acknowledge the looming Wall. The myth of the biological clock for women is really just this rude awakening to the acceptance that she will becoming progressively less able to command the sexual attention she used to and the odds of securing a long term male provisioner decrease as does her sexual selection capacity.
This girl is stressed because she's cast herself in the unavoidable role of her married and dissatisfied girlfriend who's settled for her beta provider. It is her future she sees. She sees her girlfriend pining for the Alpha sexual prowess she'd experienced before the beta provider. 5 minutes of Alpha trumps 5 years of beta. On some level of consciousness she acknowledges this, but her predicament is in the looming Wall. The choice she sees is accepting a similar fate to her girlfriend in settling and breeding with a beta, but ultimately being eaten alive by angst for want of the Alpha she apparently has experienced - or, remaining single under the shadow of the Wall, childless, while perpetually playing catchup with each new younger and hotter generation of 22 y.o. girls that command the attentions of the Alphas she wants. That's a hell of a choice.