altamedic

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl's every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they're at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don't end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn't worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you'd ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn't have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing "serious" between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: "oh, but we're just friends!" And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you're nice like that.

The nice guys don't often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don't seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can't. From what I have observed and what I have learned from talking to many friends, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as "oh, he's too nice to date" or "he would be a good boyfriend but he's not for me" or "he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn't possibly ask him out!" or the most frustrating of all: "no, it would ruin our friendship." Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can't figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I'm going to sleep with this complete ass now 'cause he's so hot!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn't last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you're sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

My take on us nice guys...people say nice guys finish last. i disagree. nice guys don't even get close to finishing. we get that signal to go and we let all the other runners take off but we're just so nice we let them get a head start. then we take two steps and a flower pot from the window above falls and hits us on the head. obviously dazed by the sudden concussion we stumble for a moment and stray off course, right into an oncoming bus. said bus then drags it's hapless victim three and a half city blocks in the opposite direction. of course the bus driver happens to be on PCP and decides that driving through a glass factory would be a good idea. we are then pulled through the broken glass by this deranged fiend and subsequently find ourselves being mutilated. we finally break free as the bus makes it's way across a bridge. unfortunately our momentum makes us roll off of said bridge and into the cold murky water below. we think "ah it's finally over" but oh no my friends. this show just started because suddenly we feel a sharp tug as a fishing hook managed to become embedded in our torn flesh. we get pulled up from the cold polluted American waters by the surliest bunch of inbred fishermen the world has ever seen and they debate for about an hour over what type of fish we are. finally after coming to the conclusion that this quivering mass in front of them is not actually a fish but something else entirely, they chuck our broken shapeless form into a life raft, wish us farewell and send us downstream. we drift for a good hour before mustering enough strength to paddle our rather Flan like bodies to shore. by this time we're three hours behind the other contestants. we scramble across the city streets in the vain hope that we can catch up to those pretty people we let pass us bye. unfortunately we get caught right in the middle of a gang war. our already mutilated form gets riddled with bullets, but we try to keep going. we flag down a bus and hop aboard hoping to make up the time lost. of course it happens to be that same junkie as before. he takes the longest route he can until he reaches the river, "i know a short cut man, " he says as he tries to make the bus magically fly off the bridge and over the river sans traffic. so that leaves our hero back in the water with the same sudden sharp tug as he's pulled back aboard the fishing boat, the process of determining his species starts anew. we manage to sneak away and limp our ways to the finish line where we expire 10 feet from the line.

No one knows what to make of the jiggling mass before them, it gets tossed into a black garbage bag, zip tied and buried in a shallow unmarked grave. There are no mourners. only an occasional "whatever happened to what's his name? he was such a nice guy."

two weeks later the bus driver is found wandering the beach, lost and confused. he has survived the last days by devouring the flesh of homeless. His story becomes the movie of the week. The plot? a large blobular creature forced him to drive his bus into the river and he had to resort to cannibalism to survive.

just my take anyway