[i]This is for all the men in my life. All those who have patiently listened to me, even when I rambled on about subjects you couldn't possibly care less about. All those who put up with my endless array of shit. All those who understood that sometimes, I will pout, maybe even cry. All those who held me when I got scared. All those who stood guard outside the guys' bathroom. All those who, without complaint, fetched me water after I'd had too much to drink. All those who didn't mind waiting 20 mins for me because once again, I was taking much too long to get ready. All those who dropped what they were doing in the middle of the night because I called and asked to be walked home. All those who have made me feel loved, respected, safe; this goes out to you.[/i]
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/funn y/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, and 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 anyway, because you're nice like that.
This is for the nice guys don't often get credit where credit is due...and perhaps more disturbingly, the nice guys don't seem to get laid as often as they should. So, until these matters are resolved, all I can do is 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.
Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003 Written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal
