This is Nice Girl’s ode to all Nice Guys that wind up… sucking big time.
Does this sound familiar: “I finally met a nice guy!” Anonymous love struck girl says to anonymous friend.
"Oh, yeah? What’s he like"
—-Three months and 8098 text messages later, Nice Guy turns into such a massive suck hole, and you must remove him from your phone because you’re sick of drunk dialing him at 2:30 AM and asking him to return to Athens for another visit “because we had something.”
Oh, us girls believe so easily. No random man can walk into our lives that isn’t (dun, dun, dun) FATE.
“That random guy at that random bar from out of town is soOoOo my future husband.”
"Giiiirl, you know it! Get it!"
And he leads on. For a while. Until his Testosterone kicks in and reminds him that “She was a random girl, from a random town, in a random bar who I will NEVER see again, and frankly, I don’t really give a fuck.”
But he throws you bait, from time to time, and convinces you that flying to another state to see him, is the most logical, sexy thing you could ever humanly do. So you book the weekend flight. On your college budget. To visit Nice Guy who has said “You’re my perfect girl” and “I can’t wait to show you off to all my friends.” You booked the weekend flight for… a booty call. And you sobbed the entire 3 hour flight home (plus the 1 hour at baggage claim) replaying Rod Stewart’s “I Ain’t Missing You (at all)”…because you don’t… but you so do. You SoOoO do.
But here’s where things get messy—In actuality, Nice Guy really is a nice guy and doesn’t want to crush your fragile female emotions. Because that would open a whole other bag of estrogen… and not the sexy estrogen that you let him taste on your weekend fuck fest.
So Nice Guy becomes a master of lies. Sneaky, believable lies that you can’t refute by any means and you have no way of knowing if he is being a sneaky bitch.
Even when Nice Guy tells you he can’t come visit this weekend because “my friend from law school is coming to visit, and I cant POSSIBLY miss him this time because I missed him last time he visited,” you believe his lies… because he’s a nice guy.
So you give him some more time “to come around.” And after he doesn’t respond to your “I miss you” text, “I miss you..but I know I shouldn’t tell you ;)” you still give him more time “because he’s busy, yeah, he’s busy.”
And then Nice Guy…right before he’s supposed to come for that hyped up Super Bowl weekend (“For real, I’m going to visit this time”)…he drops the bomb on your Nagasaki ass, “I have an interview in New York this weekend. I’m so sorry babe. Next time…Next time.” [sigh]
And you have to believe him because NICE GUYS DON’T LIE. Right? No, Never. Of Course Not.
Wrong. Nice guys tip toe around girls feelings… as all Nice species should… they beat around the bush after they’d already tapped that fine nice ass of ours a few times… our Nice Girl ass who whispered “I’m not going to sleep with you. I just met you. I’m not that kind of girl.” …But we all are. You know it. Accept it. But SHHHH because we’re nice girls.
…If only us nice girls had the brilliant minds of such skanky sluts.
Nice guys, if you were just straight forward and not so nice to our feelings, you wouldn’t have to keep complaining about “Nice Guys Finish Last.” The fault is yours.
And thank god you’re not in my phone book anymore.