Once upon a time, I mused on my blog about the quiet force of nature known as The Nice Guy™. You doubtless know one; the guy who’s spoken of highly by all who know him yet remains strangely solo in a duet world. Why is that, one wonders. Could it be that far too many women are addicted to their built-in bastard radar to give The Nice Guy™ a shot? Naah. Couldn’t be that. Thankfully, one Rosemary Ribner from the immortal website Grumpy Sloth (no, I’d never heard of it before either) has come along to clear up all possible misconceptions regarding this puzzlement.
It’s all The Nice Guy™’s fault.
Ms. Ribner starts her philippic with a revelation so overwhelmingly astonishing in its utter obviousness it boggles the mind anyone would bother writing it down: guys who play-act at being The Nice Guy™ in order to try and attract women, then vociferously complain at remaining dateless, aren’t actually A Nice Guy™. What, doing a bottom drawer beta male move isn’t genuine niceness? Gee. Who knew. Maybe next Ms. Ribner will tell us water is quite often wet.
From this Captain Obvious moment, Ms. Ribner launches into other reasons why, in her estimation, The Nice Guy™ is highly suspect to spending Saturday nights grocery shopping in lieu of leavin’ ‘em stacked like cordwood on the killing floor. They don’t try hard enough, this manifested by their taking “no I don’t want to go out with you” as meaning … brace yourself … no, I don’t want to go out with you. They keep reaching out of their lane and out of their league (more on this in a bit). They’re not sufficiently imbued with masculinity, this flying in the face of how toxic masculinity is the sin above all sins for feminists but whatever. They’re too agreeable. They’re boring; apparently women holding the mindset set forth in this article prefer the thrill of being treated like toilet paper. And, they claim to be feminists, this coming as news to Nice Guys™ who to a one would rather play solitaire for fun with a deck of fifty-one than hassle attempting to date any woman identifying herself with screeching, strident, manbashing feminism. This includes any woman signing off on the points in Ms. Ribner’s article as gospel truth.
Returning to the aforementioned assertion that Nice Guys™ spend too much time trying to date over their head — because, after all, there isn’t a single single woman out there not brushing off great guys because she’s holding out for Justin Timberlake or reasonable celebrity equivalent thereof — it is more than interesting to note women seizing upon this as Holy Writ. Why can’t The Nice Guy™ go ask out that Nice Girl™ over there? She’s much more his type than me. Translation: “I deserve so much better than that boring bozo, what with his manners and consideration and such. Besides, my built-in bastard radar is pinging. Make me cry, big boy!” It could be noted how utterly condescending this is to all women sloughed off as being second tier, but there isn’t a woman alive who’d do that to another woman, now is there …
Behind Ms. Ribner’s thinly veneered manbashing exercise lies the unspoken yet plainly stated belief that women who date assholes have only The Nice Guy™ to blame. Not themselves, oh no never ever ever. If The Nice Guy™ would have just filled in on the checkboxes on my must have list, they would have saved me from myself! Sorry, ladies who think this way. There’s only one Guy capable of saving you from your own shallow, narcissistic mindset. And He’s not available for dating. You date a known bastard, it is entirely on you. Own it.
PS: Laying sarcasm aside, I know several truly wonderful women who wound up dating, and sometimes marrying, bastards not through any fault of their own. In these cases, every single time the bastard managed to keep his true nature — usually mental issues manifested by abuse on one or more levels — sufficiently hidden until it was too late for an easy exit. The woman is not at fault in these scenarios, and often emerges from these living nightmares far more appreciative of what nice guys have to offer. They deserve a nice guy. Prayerfully, they will find one.
PPS: God loves bastards too and offers them the way out from their bastard-ness: