I always appreciate it when a topic for an article happens to fall into my lap. It saves me all of the time and anxiety that comes with writing a thrice-weekly column that usually culminates with the 3 AM insomnia-inducing panic that leads to my brain screaming “I HAVE RUN OUT OF IDEAS!” as I try to force inspiration into my face through judicious prescriptions of Macallan from my good friend Dr. Whiskey all the while cursing my laptop for betraying me by not magically producing the pages that the DMT elves promised me.
In this case, the kernel of an article came to me via Twitter as one of my readers linked me to a post on Tumblr with a rant and blistering response between a “Nice Guy” and one of the many women who bought into the “Nice Guy” schtick. The issue of the “Nice Guy” is one that is close to my cold, mercenary heart if only because I’ve spent so much time in that mindset and every “I’ve been friendzoned” rant brings familiar echoes of ones that I wrote myself and broadcast to the uncaring world wide web – ones that fortunately have been lost to the universe, never to be seen again1
As much as the issue of the Nice Guy forever continues to rise, phoenix-like from the ashes of self-destructing friendships, as someone who has been there, done that and literally printed the t-shirt (another college experiment that has been destroyed) I feel the need to educate my Nice Guy brethren as to just what the big fucking problem is with the Nice Guy world view and just why it’s so goddamn toxic.
- And while I’m tempting fate, I would like to say that God has shitty aim. [↩]