Dear Women Who Dump Guys For Being “Too Nice”,
Congratulations on dumping that guy who was just “too nice” for you to date. I admire your strength. Now you’re finally free. Free to go find that perfect guy who will ignore you, say you look fat, and interrupt your “my day” story to punch a hole in a rented television.
You don’t want someone who treats you well, and you deserve whatever emotionally distant “rebel” you wind up with. Unfortunately he’s probably going to be some guy named Vick with a tattoo of a switchblade on his forehead.
The downside of not wanting a nice guy is that the opposite of nice is mean. There’s not much of a middle ground. In the same way that no guy gets off of a motorcycle and starts playing the violin, no guy that’s disinterested in your feelings is going to surprise you with a sensitive side.
Don’t fret though, dating a jerk can be rewarding. You’ll have tons of great stories like, “When he cocked back his fist to hit me, his bicep looked so buff!”. Or funny ones like, “When I catch him cheating on me, he comes up with the cutest excuses!”
Thankfully you don’t have to worry about that wimp that surprised you with flowers too often, said “I love you” too soon, or just plain cared about you too much. He’s out of the picture, and will soon be married, and off the market.
You won’t though. The guy you want isn’t interested in marriage, he’s too wild, too dangerous, and way too mysterious to settle down. This “not nice” guy won’t wreck your birthday with a candlelit dinner, he’ll surprise you by flaking out on your grandmother’s funeral.
Don’t worry about the guys you’ve dumped, in a few years all those “annoyingly sweet” guys will be in stable relationships, while you’re having your face shoved into a sink full of dirty dishwater. (Vick freaks out when he hasn’t had enough to drink, but he’ll sometimes apologize later, so it’s okay, right?)
I just hope when you’re raising two newborns alone in a mobile home, and the now-estranged Vick has thrown a molotov cocktail through the window you’ll remember how disgusted you were by men that would hold open a door for you. And as the window shatters, and the air is filled with flames and broken glass, time will stand still for a moment, and your love life flashes before your eyes, and you see all the losers who wanted to hold hands, listen to your dreams, and write you a poem.
Those guys weren’t right for you. Nobody wants a faithful, available boyfriend, they want Vick; the abusive cheater who tells you that you’re an ugly slut. You may wonder where he disappears to for days at a time, but you’ll never have to worry about him being “too nice.”
Disaffectedly yours,
Jonas Polsky
