Do You Fall for Naughty or Nice?
With Christmas just around the corner, I procrastinated buying presents and did some thinking. When we are children, we are taught that Santa’s list is divided into two columns: Those that are naughty and those that are nice. But now that we are full grown adults and we have realized Santa was just a fabrication made by our parents so we would make our beds, it appears that the Naughty and Nice list still applies to some situations: the guys that we date.
I am no stranger to blind dates, first dates, good dates, bad dates, and crying in the bathroom, but the past few years, especially since living in New York City, the guys who are actually nice seem like the minority to me. Call me jaded or call me cynical (my mom sure does), but when I meet someone for a date and they are genuinely nice, it is more shocking than expected. And I don’t mean “nice” in the sense that they call you the right name or make sure you get off first. I mean “nice” in the fact that they hold the door for you, pull out your chair, seem genuinely interested in your life, and make eye contact.
Absurd, I know.
Not too long ago, I was seeing someone who definitely fell into the “Nice guy” category. After our first date, I came home and called my friends to tell them about every mundane detail (like I do after every date). Although, where I would normally say, “I wish I stayed home with Netflix” or “He drank white zinfandel with ice cubes” I noted how nice he was – something my friends had very rarely heard me say when referring to a man. The nicest guy I came across in the past three years is Harum, the guy who works at Dunkin’ Donuts.
All of their reactions were the same: “Oh my god, finally a nice guy”… “This is exactly what you need”… “Marry him.”
While my friends were all infatuated with him, I on the other hand, was on the fence. So, I hopped down, ordered a pizza, and tried to figure out why I was so damaged and jaded.
After my fifth slice, I decided to call my girlfriend who is really great at analyzing guys and relationships. While finishing the last of the pizza, I listened to her tell me something I think deep down, I already knew: “The only reason you are shocked and not interested is because you are attracted to assholes.”
“Huh” I said. “I guess that’s kind of true.”
“Kind of true? You dated someone for five months who only texted you after midnight. You dated someone else who forgot your birthday. And don’t make me bring up the guy who pushed you down a flight of stairs.”
“Okay, okay. I am attracted to assholes,” I finally admitted. “But how do I stop?”
“How the hell should I know? I just texted a guy who thinks my name is Jennifer and asked him to come over. I’m in the same boat.”
I went out with the nice guy a few more times, and just as expected, we had a wonderful time. He paid for my dinner, helped me put my coat on, and even walked me (out of his way) to my train. He has a successful job, his own apartment, and he reads for fun. He was perfect.
I spent the whole train ride wondering what was wrong with me. I had a great evening and liked him a lot, I just didn’t have the butterflies. I didn’t have the zsa zsa zsu. I didn’t have anything. There was something missing.
I thought about the other people I have dated who gave me butterflies. They weren’t necessarily “assholes” or “jerks” or “naughty,” but there was some type of challenge to the relationship. Whether it was the drive for passion or just the determination of keeping it interesting, there was always something keeping me texting them. Something that made me want to prove they should date me. But now, in this situation, I already had him. He was already interested. He wanted to date me.
So why did I feel nothing?
I know that now, as a “mature” 28 year old, I need to be appreciative that someone so great thinks I am so great as well, but am I a fool for wanting there to be a challenge? Should we, as daters, just suck it up, stop playing games and give the good guys a chance, so maybe, just once, a nice guy could finish first?
