David is a happily-married twentysomething, working hard in the criminal law to provide his boss with tea and biscuits. Despite appearances, his blood pressure isn't astronomical, and his idea of a good time is sitting down drinking beer and watching the rugby on telly.
There's more to being perfect boyfriend material than being nice, fumes David. So quit the puppy dog routine and get a personality.
I don't know what's going on, but teenage boys up and down the country are all wining the same refrain. "I'm nice, will you love me?" They reckon they're nice, they buy flowers for their target girlie, and don't get why she runs away screaming. It's actually painful to watch, their little puppy dog eyes sink and they start to blub that nobody loves them.
Which is exactly the problem. They're like little puppy dogs. They think that being nice is an achievement; if only they follow the girl around enough, and buy her enough flowers, then she'll love them forever. "I don't even want sex," they cry. "I treat you like a princess and buy you flowers." It's all enough to make me vomit copiously, really. Or kick them, just to see what would happen.
And there's the crux of the problem. Their idea of what's nice is completely not what people want. Their idea of nice is being a doormat, being a little puppy begging for love. Being a shadow. Bordering on being a stalker. They think that flowers are enough to make a girl throw herself at them; sure, roses are nice, but not as nice as having a sense of humour. Or having some backbone. Or having an idea that, y'know, girls might want sex too. Or grasping the point that it isn't 1826 anymore.
"The thing that gets to me most is that because their clichés are rejected, they start claiming that: "all girls love a bastard". Like, er, maybe not."
Treating people with respect is not something to define yourself by. It's something that should come as standard. It's quite sad that these boys don't know how to be themselves, because they could make someone really happy if they started doing what they wanted, not what they think is expected. That's the biggest problem with their idea of nice - roses are so clichéd. Even Mr Darcy had a personality. And Colin Firth played him, who (my wife assures me) is basically sex-on-a-stick.
The thing that gets to me most is that because their clichés are rejected, they start claiming that: "all girls love a bastard". Like, er, maybe not. Girls love blokes who are their own person, who care about their girlfriends without being sickeningly sycophantic. Being interesting isn't being a bastard. Being nice isn't being interesting; or not by itself, anyway.
Being nice isn't a metaphor for being a doormat. Few would want to shag a Hessian rug with 'welcome' stamped on it (though there's always one). Doormats simply aren't sexy, folks. Be yourself for a change, quit the whingeing about how nobody loves you, and you might just make that lucky girl happy.
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