I dated a nice guy once. He was the sweetest guy ever, and I dumped him. Let me set the scene … it was fourth grade, the year was 1990, and Billy, my boyfriend at school was not really the guy I liked the best, but he liked me the most. For Halloween he had a trick-or-treat party and his parents said they liked me. I was one of two Black girls in the school and there son was white and we were 10 … they were pretty cool about it! Billy was very attentive and would always hang out with me during recess, sit next to me in class, or stare at me all googly-eyed throughout the day. Then … it ended. He went on a family vacation to Hawaii and brought me back a few gifts, a necklace and a box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts. That was it. The last straw. I decided Billy was smothering me and dumped him. I remember sitting in class and he did not sit next to me. He stared at me with a broken heart and puppy dog eyes, and after the resident “bad boy” of our grade named Ryan, that I liked rejected me yet again, I instantly regretted breaking up with Billy.
Here’s the thing about “nice guys,” they get a bad rap. They are usually the dorky sidekick in a film or the band geek hiring someone to be their girlfriend in a movie. They almost always are portrayed as bad dressers, glasses wearers, and nasally voice having guys with no chest hair. They are always way into a girl that’s “too pretty” or “too cool” to go out with them, so they pine after her as they watch her make-out with the “bad boy” in town.
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The “bad boy” on the other hand is dope! He has an insane amount of swagger, is typically the best-dressed, the most liked, and has mad bass in his voice. The “bad boy” is always spurning the advances of girls and women who literally swoon and catch the vapors, as he walks by finger-pointing and winking his eye at the same time (all “bad boys” must know how to perform this simultaneous action). The “bad boy” always smells good, has like 10 girlfriends at once, who all fight over him, and he never gets pimples. He is desirable because he seems so unattainable. He is raw, sexual, and mesmerizing. The “bad boy” has that … that … sexy something that makes you want to throw your panties at him every-damn-time-you-see-him. Even when he does the finger point/wink combo!
When I was younger, dumber, more immature, and reckless, every single thing about the “bad boy” appealed to me. I loved the cockiness he had, and I equated it with confidence. I loved that he made sure he looked perfect at all times and had on the flyest clothes by the best designers. Oh, and when he wouldn’t call me or would take forever to make actual plans with me, it made me want him even more. Whenever the Bad Boy would keep me guessing, I became more intrigued, albeit frustrated, but yet still wanting to try harder to get and keep his attention. I was an idiot. Why I felt it was okay to let a man keep me wondering how he felt, not call me, and basically just keep every aspect of or so-called relationship a big guessing game, says a lot about my lack of maturity and dare I even say confidence at the time. A man (or woman) should never keep you waiting or guessing! You should know you are wanted, cared for, and loved.
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Nice guys are amazing. They are like that unicorn I have always wanted, but did not know how to attain. My co-worker has just begun dating someone and told me how he brought her orchids on their first date, made her breakfast on their fourth date, and actually … wait for it … pulled out his guitar the other night and sang a friggin’ song for her! Yes, an actual guitar and he sang, and she loved it. He is everything she has never had. She has always dated the bad boys, the Mr. Unattainables, and had even talked herself out of giving Mr. Nice Guy a chance. She said he was corny. Oh wait, I said he was corny, and she agreed, but then one week later she said, “I like his corniness … ” Nice guy calls her — he actually picks up the phone and calls her. He texts her to see how she is doing and they plan their dates or evenings together. He told her exactly how he feels about her without her even asking him. He has introduced her to his friends and co-workers, and he is genuinely a good guy. A good guy she almost passed up because he was “too nice.”
This essay is dedicated to the nice guys. You are not corny and who cares if you don’t have chest hair? You buy us chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, which in my case, completely makes you a winner in my book. So, here’s to the nice guys — Jonesie loves you and apologizes for ever thinking the bad boys were more interesting and fun. Nice guys, you are sexy, amazing, unique, and exactly who I want … Get at me bro!
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