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I have often declared that if there is a pathological, lying asshole within a five-kilometre radius, I will be completely attracted to him. I would even go as far as to suggest that I would give him one of my semi-working kidneys should he ever think up a significant story to warrant one. So long as someone is pretty enough, it is safe to say that in my past, I have let The Retard get away with anything.

 

My last boyfriend was such a lying fool, yet so incredibly pretty, that every time he spoke I was like, “Stop! You’re wrecking it!” Suffice to say, he wasn’t nice, yet, at the time, I was completely obsessed with him.

 

“Girls never go for nice guys,” the nice guy I have been sleeping with told me.

Of course, because I am me, I disputed this. I so much want it to be true that me and other girls actually do go for the nice guy. But any argument I threw at him, he very nicely proved me wrong. “Girls will always go for the asshole who plays games with them,” he concluded.

 

To be a brilliant, notable and even memorable person someone needs to be more than “nice”. As far as I am concerned, anyone can be “nice”. In fact, the assholes who do get the girl [for a while] have often pretended to be nice in the first place. That is why the girl gets attached: This nice guy has turned out to be such an asshole and she has to work out why[?!]. But to be someone with any sort of longevity, there has to be something more than “nice” brought to the table. Nice is simply a side dish: It is appreciated but it is not sufficient for a main meal.

 

I have often declared that the fastest way to get my pants off is by making me laugh. I will be attracted to the most physically unattractive oaf in a five-kilometre radius if he happens to make me cry tears of laughter, as opposed to tears of heartbreak that the pretty ones are so apt in doing.

“Girls always say that,” another nice guy said to me. “But it isn’t true. I have never won over a girl by making her laugh.”

I didn’t want to alert him to the fact that he isn’t actually funny, and niceness is actually his trump card, and so I went back to picturing him naked while he spoke, hoping that he would stop because he was wrecking it.

 

I have had reservations about The Crush over the past week. I couldn’t work out why I was suddenly disinterested in someone who is the epitome of eternal niceness, who looks amazing shirtless and who can make me laugh with a simple viewing of a YouTube video.

But then I had to admit: His niceness was off-putting.

 

I will (or would never) describe myself as nice. Funny, occasionally. Interesting, rarely. Intelligent, sporadically. Indifferent, always. But nice is not the best adjective to sum up my personality. In fact, I can totally understand when people don’t like me.

“Pfft. I  probably wouldn’t either,” I nod in agreement. “But at least get to know me and then hate me.”

But this isn’t why I find nice to be so, well, subjective. If all you are is “nice”, then, sorry, but you are boring. To claim one attribute to yourself, and put it at a higher importance to others, is not interesting. And people (read: girls) run away even while wearing heels if they are bored.

 

 

The nice guys I have known, slept with, dated or broken up with have all been people who the term “nice” is irrelevant to. Their uniqueness comes from their intelligence, opinions or humour. Or physical appearance while shirtless.

“Nice guys don’t finish last,” I told the nice guy I have been sleeping with. “Ones who are not right for you do.”

 

Human beings are irrationally stubborn, which means that we will attempt time and time again to make something work even if we know that it isn’t right. I think this is possibly IKEA’s business plan. The moment we are physically attracted to someone, we will try to make it work even if everything else about the person is wrecking it. Whereas, in reality, it is far less dramatic and a lot nicer to say, “You are simply not for me.”

 

My jury is still out on The Crush. But I know that if I decide otherwise about him, it won’t be because he is too nice. And it will never be because he is too pretty. It could just be that once I get to know him, I realize that he isn’t for me.

 

And if I wreck it, I will lie, sit in silence and picture him naked.

 

Post By Salium.