The first day I met Jason* he told me he was a virgin and a “nice guy” – which was why, according to him, he was unable to get many dates.
“Women are only interested in dating guys who treat them like shit,” he told me.
The virgin thing wasn’t by choice, he claimed, it was just that “nice guys always get friend-zoned.” He made it clear right away that he was interested in me, but I wasn’t attracted to him at first.
He wasn’t really my type physically, but that wasn’t the only reason I wasn’t into him initially. I’ve just never gotten hot for guys who feel the need to tell me about their sexual experiences (or lack thereof) or whine about their dating life (or lack thereof) before we’ve even gone on a first date. Plus, I still had an on-again off-again thing with an ex. So, there was that.
But once I got to know Jason, I saw that he was funny and smart, and we had a few things in common. In a college city where everyone always wanted to be out all night clubbing, he was one of the few people I knew who was content to occasionally spend a night in, just watching Adult Swim or playing an old Sega game. We quickly became friends. (Or, as Jason would say, he quickly became friend-zoned.) Keep reading »
Let me be clear right here from the start, nice people are amazing all the time and wanting to be one should be a main goal in everyone’s life. This isn’t about them.
“Nice Guys,” with the quotes — and if you’re reading this out loud, a little stank in your voice — are not really that nice. They’re actually pretty shitty people who are entitled little shitheads and incapable of understanding the feelings of others. It’s pretty common and understandable if you think like this in middle school or high school, because everyone at that age is usually pretty terrible (definitely myself included), but “Nice Guys” in their twenties and beyond are a real bunch of life-failing sadness machines that just bring my day down like no other.
But it doesn’t have to be like this! I put together some helpful tips so you can tell if you or someone you know is being a Nice Guy, and then get your life back on track to not being a suckfest of a human. Keep reading »
Earlier this morning, I was reading a piece on How About We’s blog The Date Report about men who are “serial daters” thanks to the ease of online dating web sites. Blogger Justin Rocket Silverman wrote about a piece in The Atlantic by Dan Slater called “A Million First Dates” which argues that online dating allows people the ability to act like kids in a candy store. Some men feel they can easily discard women or brush off getting dumped , because there’s always the chance someone “better” is waiting for them online (AKA “Bigger-Better Syndrome”). Keep reading »
How do we feel about this new trend of shaming people by attaching their photos to douchey stuff they say online? I’m not arguing that some of the gents on Nice Guys Of OK Cupid are not pigs. The Tumblr is unmasking all kinds of misogynists and power-hungry freaks. Like, say, the guys who answer “yes” to the question, “Do you think there are certain circumstances a person is obligated to have sex with you?” Keep reading »
Almost a year ago, I wrote an essay about having been date raped in college. The piece got a strong reaction from commenters, many of whom debated whether or not I had given or not given consent for this guy to have sex with me. Much of the back-and-forth centered around the fact that I didn’t realize that penetration had actually occurred until days later. I had had a few beers, it was dark, I was a virgin and generally sexually inexperienced, and I had told him explicitly that I did not want to have sex yet, all of which added up to me not realizing what had happened until he told me.
I perceived this man to be “a nice guy.” (We had a good date. He was funny and smart and liked animals. He seemed trustworthy.) He genuinely seemed surprised that I hadn’t realized he had penetrated me, that he wasn’t able to “help” himself. That’s what he said: “I couldn’t help myself.” I still clearly remember his tone — it was sort of sheepish, but also complimentary, as though he was trying to flatter me by saying he couldn’t stop himself from doing what I said earlier not to do. As I thought about it in the days after, I excused his raping me as a breakdown of communication. He hadn’t meant to rape me, so therefore it couldn’t be rape. Besides, he was a nice guy and nice guys just don’t rape. Keep reading »
A recent study has concluded that it doesn’t pay to be a “nice” guy. Scientists have found that men who are “agreeable” in the workplace don’t earn as much money as men who are more cutthroat. This groundbreaking finding serves to prove that tired old saying that “nice guys finish last.” When did you become so starved for attention, science? I know that modern society is allergic to reason and that facts and the boring pursuit of truth aren’t sexy. But why bother drumming up controversy by using social research to confirm a statement that only reinforces gender cliches? Do you need a ratings boost?
When women hear that “nice guys finish last,” they wail and shake their fists and wonder aloud, very loudly, if they’ll ever, ever, ever find a guy who isn’t a jackass. Then there are the men who are actually jackasses who tell themselves they’re “nice guys,” because even jackasses need to sleep. But then they read, for the 1000th time, that “nice guys finish last,” and resign themselves to being jackasses. Because why bother being a nice guy if you’re doomed to failure? Both men and women respond emotionally to the phrase “nice guys finish last.” I don’t care how scientifically sound the study happens to be because I’ll bet all my credit card debt that it was inspired by a desire to steal some spotlight instead of illuminating the human condition. Keep reading »
Here’s the thing — on paper, I’m actually one of those Nice Guys you often hear and/or read about. I’m uncomfortable to the point of nausea at the idea of being a jerk to women in order to manipulate them into sleeping with me. I do everything in my power to make a girl I’m interested in comfortable and happy, and I refrain from any remotely creepy or suggestive behavior.
So, although I actually do qualify as one of the Nice Guys, there’s a paradox — there’s no such thing. Read more … Keep reading »