Today’s topic is one that I have been kicking around in my mind for a long time. And no worries, it’s a purely subjective concept so it’s not like I’m going to go “Chris Benoit” on anyone around here. But it’s like this. By now, most of you all who are reading this (unless perhaps you just now are showing up, in which case welcome) fully realize that needy, wimpy “Nice Guys” get nowhere with women by supplicating, capitulating and otherwise fulfilling upon various other big words with small meanings.
Women dread the insincerity and manipulative tactics involved like Emily’s dog Cosmo The Hairless Terrier dreads sunburn. And just like Cosmo, guys who regularly do such silly stuff have no game whatsoever. Hell, they may as well spin around three or four times “turbo barking” like he does. Even when Gracie Girl (terrier hottie) is in “heat”, the only female ever even remotely impressed by such a ludicrous and decidedly useless display appears to be my seven-year-old daughter.
On the flip side you have the “Bad Boys”, the garden variety of which are collectively known as “Idiot/Jerks” around these parts. Yeppers, pardner. Some guys appear to be successful at attracting some women by ignoring and/or mistreating them. But as we have also learned, the particularly sharp women won’t put up with that for long either. Besides, misogynistic guys attract man-haters like…well…like lunchtime attracts Cosmo. And that friends and neighbors is the quintessential “lose/lose” for “losers/losers”.
But despite all these shenanigans, of both the human and canine ilk, we keep on living in this black/white universe where a guy usually believes he has to be one or the other…and amazingly the women buy into the false logic with an equal share.
Where it gets particularly troublesome is when — inevitably (we would think) — some guys get kissed upside the head with the proverbial 2×4 and snap to it, saying, “Duh…hey…wait…uhh…THIS IS NOT WORKING!” And then the breathtaking part: They try to fix things by (you guessed it) trying “that other strategy”.
So here we go. “Mr. Nice Guy” decides he’s got to be “The Bad Boy” to get the girl. Have you ever seen a girly-man kicking tires on a Harley? It ain’t pretty. And it’s even uglier when he BUYS the thing. Pigs and lipstick all over again. If you are manipulative and needy when you are “Nice” about it, nothing changes when you’re “Not Nice” about it. Somewhere, a particularly first-class woman is getting her hands on this article and agreeing with me: this picture is even more pathetic than the “Nice Guy” was.
Simply put, if there ever was a shred of hope with the woman this guy is so desperate to earn the attention of, it just sprouted wings. Majorly.
And elsewhere, there are at times “I/J” types who realize in a moment of sweet epiphany that they’ve pushed too hard. The woman has had enough, and has been driven to the edge of both sanity and dignity. She has experienced the great awakening of Deserving What She Wants and will not tolerate the mistreatment any longer. Good for her. And what does the “I/J” guy do? He decides it’s time to make an SOS call to the flower shop desperately hoping that two dozen (in red, with “baby’s breath”, etc.) is enough. Time to “kiss up” and “make nice”. Yeah, whatever. Let’s get a show of hands among ladies sometime to see who has ever launched a “special delivery” like that directly into the can. Sorry, guys. Once again, albeit in an alternate universe, you’ve just sealed your certain doom as securely as “Harley Mounted Milquetoast Boy” did.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. As if the first infraction wasn’t heinous enough, dude…you just had to yank the whole charade into full-on DEFCON 1, didn’t you? Counter failure of one extreme by swinging clear across to the other…and call it “Double-Barreled Disaster”. If you manage to walk away from this one, it’ll be bowlegged.
For some of you, what you are reading registers as first-hand experience. Others of you may be contemplating (or even attempting) such “reform” in your life.
How did we get here? Who decided that guys have to be caricatures of one extreme or the other?
In the end, I don’t really care how we got here any more than Cosmo cares what brand of beer I pour in his doggy dish. All I care about is getting out.
Here’s an original idea: How about being a GOOD MAN?
Maybe you’ve met him. Unashamedly masculine. Confident. Respects himself and appreciates women. Strong character. Fearless but not foolish. Irresistibly sexual without forcing the issue. Makes decisions and does what he says he’s going to do. Even if he’s not from Texas. Never any need to swing to either extreme. And –write this down– the chicks dig him. They just can’t seem to find him around anymore. Let’s hope they don’t forget how to recognize him…