Nice Guys Finish Last

That is it! I have had it! I am at the end of my rope! In the words of the legendary gothic Alice Cooper, “No More Mr. Nice Guy!”



Now I am no Dr. Love as we have had in semesters past, and I normally don’t spend 7-inch high columns discussing the affairs of the heart, but I definitely have some beef to throw down this week. 



One of the most confusing, gargantuan enigmas that is baffling my brain this week is the fact that in this day and age, to romance the heart of a girl, I have to be the most inconsiderate, thoughtless, selfish jerk ever created. Only then will the ladies begin to fall for me. At least that seems to be the case. 



Now after being raised by 11 sisters in a home overloaded with estrogen, I figured I had some sort of advantage with the ladies. Or at least some sort of special insight as to how they work and what they want. Apparently that is not the case. 



I have tried it all. I have tried opening the doors, pulling out the chairs, paying for the meals, and everything else in between being respectful to the opposite sex. I have even done the I’ll-shutup-and-listen-to-everything-you-say-to-prove-that-I-care routine. But it makes no difference! It doesn’t matter. Girls don’t seem to care that I care. Girls just want a jerk. 



Girls, please correct me if I am (hopefully) wrong. You say you want someone who is a little bit sensitive, someone who listens to you, someone whose life doesn’t revolve around how big his truck is or how massive the buck he shot last week was. That is total bull. All of that talk about sensitive listening guys gets shoved back in my face when a short guy in a lifted F-350 and a four-pointer drives up and whistles at her booty. 



Guys these days have no respect for girls whatsoever, not in the least bit. They don’t care about how she feels about something or how she wants to be treated. All they care about is “getting a piece” this weekend then bragging about it to their buddies. Forget about actually caring about a girl. Women are just there for physical entertainment and apartment cleaners.

Call me old-fashioned, but that’s not the way women should be looked at. They are not supposed to be viewed as an icon off a Playboy cover or a slave trapped in a kitchen catering to a man’s every need. Women are supposed to be treated like queens, with us the men, the protectors, being there to take care of them, not the other way around. And if you think that it’s girly for a guy like me to have this set of values, you have a big problem. One who is 6-foot-5, 240 pounds to be specific. 



And if you think that I’m writing this column to get a date you’re absolutely wrong again. If a girl is only looking for big trucks and Gold’s Gym muscles, how is a two-column opinion piece from a non-meathead journalist going to make the slightest difference? 



You think I am expecting a throng of girls to parade my office saying, “You are so wrong Brock, I want a sensitive guy who will listen to me and will care about what I’m doing with my life. Let’s go out.” I don’t think so. 



And so it begins… I am going to be the biggest jerk from now on in order to get girls. No respect, insults aplenty, a complete disregard for what girls “really care about.” I am going to go buy the biggest truck I can find, put the biggest tires on it, get the biggest lift I can get, shoot the biggest buck in all of Utah, and then go up to a crowd of girls and brag about all of the cool stuff I have now. Problem is, I’ll probably still be stuck where I am now: single and confused.