The Good Guy
Nice Guys Do Finish First
He’s nice. He has a good job. He brings you flowers. He is faithful. He is honest. Okay, three out of five ain’t bad. Momma said he would be a nice boy, from a good family. Hopefully, a doctor, but not a lawyer. A banker, but not a broker. In insurance, but not in assurance. A police officer, but not a security guard. Mommas want so much for their daughters. They want the best of men. They want the staunchest of men. They want the most devoted of men.
There aren’t enough to go around. Somebody’s daughter has got to get the bottom of the barrel.
So why have your mother’s nice guys who have crossed your path over the years seemed like geeks? Like losers? Like nobody you’d want to date - ever? Maybe just because your mother told you he was a “nice” guy. These good guys, these nice guys, are storied in feminine circles to be highly desirable. But guys hate being labeled, “nice” or “good”. They see it as the kiss of death. Probably because once identified, they fear they’ll never get kissed. It is the kiss of death. Probably because once we have identified them, we fear perpetual boredom.
The Wrong One – Daddy Said
The Bad Boy
When A Bad Boy Can Be Good For You
He’s dangerous. He’s fast. He runs with the wrong crowd. He’ll get you in the wrong way. He won’t be faithful. He’ll leave you, or even worse, he’ll leave you with no money. And a vaginally disfiguring disease.
You want him badly.
If Daddy knew, he’d get out his shotgun. The thought is tantalizing. To be wayward and highly sexed in the same breath. It’s almost too much to bear. The eventual pain and loss means nothing (that is, until hit with their force). You gleefully jump, feet first, into the relationship, or liaison or screw fest (whichever it may be) with the gusto and naiveté of a child. You act like you’ve never seen his slithering ways before. You overlook the blank stare when you share your thoughts. You make excuses when he breaks another date. You rationalize his pathetic behavior in front of your friends. And it’s all good. He’s worth it. Your pain is worth it. But is it?
Do you care? Should you care?
Uh huh. Most definitely. Most assuredly. Hell yes.
No one really knows why the Bad Boy holds such an ambiguously exalted position in our cultural psyche. I don’t think anyone knows when he entered it either. The vogue for the last four decades has been to describe a dark (oh, the connotations that can muster) brooding man with a cigarette. Usually dressed in black (that “dark” connotation again) with rugged good looks and sneer. He hates the world, or, at least, has one hellava grudge against it. What this grudge is, no one in recorded history has been able to adequately explain. Yet, there he is, on a corner, leaning on his motorcycle, cigarette burning, jeans tight, his sexuality calling out to yours. He is irresistible and he knows it. He exploits it. You desire it. Some women spend most of their adult lives trying to shake him.
But let’s expand the definition of Bad Boy. It really includes men with high levels of toxicity of all types – emotional and physical. Traits in men that all women are all too familiar with. Having said this, it becomes clear that almost all women have some history with a Bad Boy. The question is why. Why have women been so attracted to men clearly not good for them? And once identified, why do we keep going back to the same fork in the road, in relationship after relationship and choosing the same treacherous path?
Well, if I knew the answer to that question, most certainly, I’d be a millionaire right now.