“Women need to give the nice guy a chance. Only Black women try and tame the bad boy. White women marry lames all the time for security. They fuck bad boys in college and that’s it.” – Manny, my man friend
I’ve never been the one to seek the bad guy, the kind to come over and wear it out then steal money from your purse while you take your after-sex shower. I have, however, had a dude ask me for money for the bus and jack me for my phone headsets. It was the same man and yes, he had a record but the ohhh wee was sweet.
Coming to terms with the fact that it’s not just the men I pick but rather the men that I don’t pick and all that I am missing out on as a result is enough to take me back to the drawing board.
Perhaps I have neglected the Nice Guy pool.
What am I, like most women, looking for:
Stability: Nice guys are stable for the most part. They are so nice they don’t spend their time chasing behind women so that means they focus on work, family and building their lives up.
Romance: Nice guys love to make love and buy flowers and pick up that little necklace he noted that you admired in the Tiffany’s catalouge. Since they don’t spend their time being dicks they are more in tune to you.
Commitment: Nice guys always want to commit. That’s because they still have faith in relationships and rather be involved then raked over the coals by some she-devil who will suck them dry.
Nonetheless, as a single girl, I still fight my instinct to reject the Nice Guy.
The Nice Guy really just wants to be loved, like every woman. Yet when we women see someone in the living flesh who reflects the same needs, wants and sensitivity that we ooze from the hairs on our heads to the cuticles on our toes (twofold between the months of Nov – Feb when the holidays remind us how much it sucks to be single and we are bombarded with the worst question in the world, “Why are you single?”) we want to grab them by the nuts and yell “Man up, you fucking pussy!”
Why do we hate the Nice Guy?
My reason, I find them pathetic. To further cement my sentiment I took Manny’s advice and went out on a date with a Nice Guy.
Lord have us Mercy…
NG picks me up from work.
He drives, a plus.
I walk outside to find him standing there outside of his car. We hug. I don’t want to be rude plus my co-workers were watching so I don’t want to son dude with my usual anti-PDA stance. This is a first date.
He opens the car door for me and presents me a bouquet of white roses.
We get in the car. He asks me where I want to go.
SG: I know a nice Italian place two blocks from here.
I usually like the guy to pick the place. It shows me how well traveled he is on the restaurant circuit and if he is willing and ready to command. I’m old fashioned like that. If I have to pick the day, time, spot, after spot I might as well strap one on and fuck you at that end of the night.
NG: You want Italian, I know a place!
Off he drives, across a bridge, onto a high way, hitting RUSH HOUR traffic. The next hour and a half he tells me his life story. The tragic-ness of this NG starts to show…
NG: I was with my daughters’ mother for 16 years. We didn’t get married because she was still married and wouldn’t get a divorce. I brought her four sets of engagement rings, each one more expensive than the next. Still she wouldn’t get a divorce.
NG: I left her and met another woman. Five hours after we met she told me that the Lord spoke to her and told her that I was her husband. We got married six months later at the J.O.P but I had only spent five days with her during those six months. I just really wanted to get married.
NG: She was pregnant when we got married but it turned out it wasn’t my son.
We make it to his spot only to find that it was closed, like out of business. The nearest thing was Applebee’s. His heart was broken because he really wanted to show off.
Over the entrÃ©e he tells me his credit score.
Not impressive at all.
How he loves to shower his women with gifts.
That he knows women take advantage of him.
I won’t bore you, or me, with the rest. But the night ended with him desperately wanting to buy me the new Robin Thicke album since I brought it up over dinner, mere filler convo. He takes me to a nearby Kmart and searches for the CD. No Mas. I end up walking out of there with a huge bottle of Tide. I needed to do laundry.
Thanks NG, my clothes are spring fresh and I’m never calling you again!
Not all NG’s are this damn depressing. I really learned that Nice Guys are men who don’t want to play the game and want to address women head on, straight and with emotional honesty. They are willing to give us the same things we beg the trifling men for. Yet, we don’t want it.
Take it from me Nice Guys, pull it back a little. You can do and say all the things you feel but in moderation. Women are the only one’s who have a pass and can recover from being desperate.
Maybe more women should take a note from the White Women’s Guide to Love and Marriage and turn those Nice Guys into husbands.
I mean, who really wants to die alone?
â€”Says the Single Girl
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