Being a nice guy sucks. At the same time, I am simply unable to really and regularly be a jerk. Now, there are certainly people on this planet I have been a jerk to and they certainly have the right to think of me as one. I am willing to bet a quick survey of all of the people I have met in my life would show that there are more than a few who wouldn’t say I was a nice guy. However, I think more people would say I am than not.

The problem with being a nice guy is that it takes work. Well, that’s one of the problems. The other problem is that women hate nice guys no matter what they tell you in private, but I’ll get back to that later. Being nice takes effort. It means taking your head out of your personal cloud and off of your goddamn cell phone and actually taking the time to notice people around you. This is apparently something most people these days are unwilling to do.

They called the 70s the “Me Decade” but in this era of sequels, I would have to say that the “Oughts” are pretty much the “Me Decade Part Two.” People seem more self-absorbed and self-centered than ever before. I think at least part of this has to do with the internet. At the same time, I am doing the exact same things as most of this people as evidenced by the fact you are reading this thing on a blog site.
People think that whatever they do is more important that whatever anyone else could possible need to do. Since they are the priority, they don’t have to worry about the fact that they are on their cell phone while attempting to write a check and pay for their groceries in the checkout line. Sure, it holds up the twenty people behind them, but she has to finish talking to her spouse, whom she will see face-to-face in about twenty minutes when she gets home, because her phone call is obviously more important than whatever it is you have to do.

Driving has gone right out the window. You are no longer allowed to decide if the idiot trying to pull into traffic should be allowed to pull in front of you. No, these days most people waiting in exit areas or side-streets wait for a space just big enough for their car to fit and then fly out into traffic. Sure, they are slower than you are and the flow of traffic going from a dead stop while turning into traffic, but obviously wherever you are going cannot be as important as where they need to go.
I actually let people in. I hold the door for people when I enter a store. When I come down a set of stairs and find a door that opens outward, I consider the fact that there might be someone on the other side and open the door slowly so as not to smash into them and cause them to need unplanned dental work. I do not think that wherever I need to go, I need to go so fast I need to come pounding through the door as if I were the only person in the building.

I try really hard to not talk on my cell phone while driving. If you ask my friends, they wonder why I have a cell phone at all. I consider almost everywhere and every circumstance a rude place to talk on your cell phone. However, all places are fine for texting, in my book, with the exception of the dinner table.

The problem is that we are few and far between and people like to take advantage of us. You open that door for someone at the 7-11 and you just watch and see if three or four other people don’t try to take advantage you and sneak through as well.

The other problem has to do with women. Sure, if you survey them they think it’s important that you don’t consider them shallow and silly for wanting “bad boys.” They tell you they want a nice guy who does romantic things for them and thinks of them first. Then, when they are alone, they go for the jerk with the long hair, tattoos, motorcycle and biceps more likely to be used to hit or threaten them than the nice guy in the non-leather jacket and glasses getting into his Subaru right next to that guy.
Some women who are honest enough to admit they have this problem will tell you that these guys trigger some kind of mothering instinct in them. They feel the need to try and help them or change them. Meanwhile, all the guy is thinking about is how much longer he can grow his hair, when he should clean his motorcycle and if the way you are holding onto his waist is wrinkling his leather jacket in such a way he should hit you later. They have no interest in changing. Why should they? They can just dump you and find some other woman who things she can change him?
Silly me. I actually like planning out romantic dinners. I like buying flowers for a woman and surprising her with them. I like sending silly romantic poems via e-mail and text message. I like singing, badly, to them when a song I hear reminds me of her. Who knew that doing nice things was really so boring?

In the end, that is the real problem with being a nice guy. We are safe. We are always there and we are always safe and you can pretty much predict what we are going to do and how we are going to act. We are always the second choice when the guys with the long hair just get to be too much. At the same time, you don’t feel too bad ditching us when the next long-haired guy comes along because you know we’ll likely still be there when you get tired of that guy too.

It takes work and the reward is often negligible. At the same time, I can guarantee I will be holding the door open tomorrow morning when I head into the 7-11 for my morning Arizona Iced Tea. I will say things like “excuse me” and “thank you.” These may be new words for some of you. Look them up.