Article 2 from a series. Observation on being single in London.
Should we feel guilty about not fancying the Really Nice Guys? Really Nice Guys inevitably come with a But, that is what makes them really nice. They are sensitive, kind, thoughtful, unpretentious…comfortable. Like the old faithful pair of shoes that never really make a statement but there is a fondness there because you are comfortable every time you slip them on. You know if you left those shoes in the gym locker no other girl would steel them. You know that they would be there, waiting, no matter what because they are yours and no one else would really want them very badly, but they would quietly appreciate their appeal. Nice shoes, safe shoes that are always an option, you put little in but get a lot given back, they warm you but they don’t excite you.
Trouble is Really Nice Guy Buts harbour a few more feelings than a well worn in pair of Birkenstocks, they too are looking for love. This quest for love must leave them somewhat disheartened since a girl knows there is a time and a place for comfortable shoes and it is not everyday. The Really Nice Guy But ticks every ideal character trait that potential boyfriends should have (probably with an oversized tick in gold ink). He arranges the date, he holds open doors, it is his treat, he ensures my safe arrival home, he doesn’t even insist on a kiss; but when I am sat in front of Mr Really Nice Guy But his BUT floats above his head like a neon sign saying, “Can you imagine me naked?” or “We’re doing it…Am I sexy?” and the answer is always, sadly, inevitably, “No”. What a shameful waste. An ignorant, image obsessed, superficial waste. He is intelligent, interesting, interested BUT he doesn’t have the ‘X factor. (Clearly just lazily shortened from the phrase SeX Factor because that is the bottom line here, right? He doesn’t have the ‘thing’ that makes me will him to stop with the insightful conversation and jump in to my bed!)
I would like to think of myself as a Really Nice Girl, however, maybe I am not – maybe my obsession with not being turned on by all the amazing assets to Mr. Really Nice Guy But’s personality makes me a Not So Nice Girl. You see, the injustice of this scenario is that Really Nice Guys should not finish last; they should finish on top, where they want to be, where they deserve to be. A Nice Girl should have the dignity to want only a Really Nice Guy on top; trouble is his But gets in the way.
In an ideal world there would be a Mr. Really Nice Guy for every Nice Girl, and maybe there is, maybe I just haven’t found my Mr. Really Nice Guy yet. In that case I will pursue my search and pay attention to the neon sign flashing adamantly above his head. After all, if Mr. Really Nice Guy But does finish last, his Really Nice Girl will be waiting at the finish line in a pair of comfortable Birkenstocks, and by that time his neon sign will have burned well and truly out of sight.