it's self-deprecation

meaning you resent yourself

do you hero bash

Perhaps the individual doesn't feel worthy enough to be apart of a club.

it is a groucho marx quote actually

yes nobody said otherwise.

it's hard to get a table for 1 at chuck-e-cheese when you look like i do

nope, doesn't mean that. it's definitely self-deprecating, every time i've heard that quote or similar quotes its in a deprecating manner.

coincidentally i just finished reading his autobiography and the tale that birthed the quote; it's not a particularly interesting story

just gonna quote it:

"Some years ago, after considerable urging, I consented to join a prominent theatrical organization. By an odd coincidence, it was called the *Delaney Club. Here, I thought, within these hallowed walls of Thespis, we would sit of an evening with our Napoleon brandies and long-stemmed pipes and discuss Chaucer, Charles Lamb, Ruskin, Voltaire, Booth, the Barrymores, Duse, Shakespeare, Bernhardt and all the other legendary figures of the theatre and literature. The first night I went there, I found thirty-two fellows playing gin rummy with marked cards, five members shooting loaded dice on a suspiciously bumpy carpet and four members in separate phone booths calling women who were other members' wives.

A few nights later the club had a banquet. I don't clearly remember what the occasion was. I think it was to honor one of the members who had successfully managed to evade the police for over a year. The dining tables were long and narrow, and unless you arrived around three in the afternoon you had no control over who your dinner companion was going to be. That particular night I was sitting next to a barber who had cut me many times, both socially and with a razor. At one point he looked slowly around the room, then turned to me and said, 'Groucho, we're certainly getting a lousy batch of new members!'

I chose to ignore this remark and tried talking to him about Chaucer, Ruskin and Shakespeare, but he had switched to denouncing electric razors as a death blow to the tonsorial arts, so I dried up and resumed drinking. The following morning I sent the club a wire stating, PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON'T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER."

*"Delaney," was an in-joke throughout the book, using it as a pseudonym for anything he didn't want/care to name

so you can see initially he just used it as an excuse, but otherwise it's self-deprecating

Two words: Freudian lens.