Nice try good guy.


Oh yeah Mr. Nice Guy, you think you can just swan on in here with your good intentions, chivalrous manners and respect for women and you think we’re just going to melt into your arms like a Splice on a 30 degree day?

Uhh! I scoff at you. We are waaayyy┬ásmarter than that buddy. We’re onto you, which is why we always choose the asshole, because we’re smarter than you, and we think we should keep getting you to chase us while we give into the prickish guys that don’t deserve us at all. So there. (Like seriouslyyy Jase Biggs, you think Kate Hudson is picturing you naked while you stand there with your unimpressive bouquet, or Dane Cook as he smirks at her undressing her with his eyes and telling her what’s in store for her later in language so foul even Russell Brand would be offended?)

Does this sound like you? Not at all phased by the perfectly respectable guys in your life that would probably be ideal husbands, amazing fathers and adore you for the rest of your life, but instead, turned on more than a 100 watt light bulb when it comes to that asshole that wont return your texts – ┬ábut can somehow turn you into one seriously smitten kitten? Yep, you sound like a prick-magnet. And let me tell you, you’re not alone.

I am beyond guilty of such reckless and exhilarating behaviour. As I get older, watch more SATC and write more of these here blogs, I begin to understand a little more about myself. And one thing I undeniably know about myself is that if it’s too easy, I don’t want it.

This can have good and bad connotations in my life. It means everything I strive for career-wise is a notch above what’s expected, so when it’s achieved it’s a real Big Deal. But in relationships? I fear it means I’ll never be satisfied.

Time after time I find myself pining over the blatantly Wrong Guy. I know it, my friends know it, even he’s probably scratching his head wondering why I’m all relentless to be up in his face, all the while muttering something along the lines of “What are you doing Olivia, I’m seriously an absolute knobhead.” And it probably even floats my boat a little more. I begin to think I have seriously amazingly shit taste in men. Always choosing guys I find I have to try and win over, and the exciting part is the battle to prove I’m worth it – when in reality, no-one should have to do that. It’s like a sport to me, and I just can’t get enough.

Is it the striving to achieve? The sinking of the unsinkable? Is it just that we all secretly want the bad boy? Even though we’ve read the book, seen the movie and yawned through the Broadway show – and no matter where we see it, the ending is always the same and poor little hearts always end up crushed by these irresistible bad boys.

It’s a hard one to stomach. Especially since every time we shut down one of these last remaining decent guys, another heart turns to stone and more often than not they join the Prickish-side in order to better fit your bill. Not only is that a serious injustice to you, but also to girls that are smart enough to recognise and bag themselves a Good Guy when they see one.

So next time you see a Casanova-style nice guy come your way, with floppy daffodils in hand, remember that all guys have the potential to be bad, but isn’t it more fun if you can bring it out when you want it and still enjoy the whole being-adored and spoiled element?

Case closed.







Are you guilty of honing in on the knob-heads?

Have you bagged a good guy?

What is more important to you, excitement or a more certain sense of security?