When Being Nice Fails

I mean, I can be just as snobby as the next girl if I want, but I do have to go with my heart sometimes.  You can’t have your guard up all the time.  But the liquor and the way she smiled got me.  And she’s an insomniac too. Damn, perfect.  Everything she says, I understand, and on top of it she’s good friends with one of my acquaintances.  

We both go back to my house, right off the bat, not even five minutes, and we are tearing each others clothes off.  This is how it feels to be on cloud 9, or outer space or something.  She feels like a smoothie after a five day binger.  I hold her, she holds me tighter against her, so that we almost mold into one.  Her shoulders and butt fit perfectly into mine, she says something about puzzle pieces, as she gives me foot cuddles.  The liquor, pills, and my chemical imbalance has me pouring out my heart, at this point talking about intimate “shrink” stuff.  She lets me in too. Jesus Christ has blessed me directly, we had communion all night.

Wake up, attack again.  She misses her classes and I miss my meeting, peace to that shit I can reschedule.  Damn, I didn’t even know this girl liked me like that, and was kind of mental like me.  At this point, I know that’s all it is – one night of fun.  I don’t want to get attached. I don’t want to be like those other dudes that she talked to me about.  Yeah, she’s irresistible, but I’m immune to this, always being surrounded by beautiful women has turned me into one.  For Christ’s sake, this chick would drop me at any second, and I would drop her to if I had to protect myself.  

Now I can’t even call her for awhile and tell her whats running through my mind, I’m a cuckoo too, and thanks to text messaging has exposed me.  Crazy right? But who wants someone that is easy to obtain, a little challenge is always good. I know this from years of relationships, and from living with catty girls who tell me stories about guys they broke down like old beach chairs.  Women are ruthless. Men are dogs.

It occurred to me at this point that she would be perfect to write this article, this one you’re reading right now. So I called her and I tried to ask her to write this article about how girls don’t like it when guys are too nice. I thought I would be hooking her up by getting her published. By asking her write this article, it put me in the same category as all those other dudes who were sweating her.  Damn, I thought we were both insomniac crazy writers, but I guess not.  And there is no use in explaining yourself after reaching a certain point.  Why is it when you’re nice to a girl, she mistakes kindness for weakness? 

Excuses are like karma, the same excuses that she was giving me, I was giving other girls.  Every time I called her to hang out it was another excuse. She’s good, like me.

So I figured I would take it to the extreme and see just how nice was too nice.  I decided to give her the ultimate weirdo freak out present – I gave her a ring at a crowded club while I was drunk.  Right after I went to the bar and took a shot, damn I knew I had just played myself out, committed dating suicide.  Now I knew how Bukowski felt.  After this I knew what was coming. All the excuses I had conjured up in my head were coming, all the stares, everything. 

The next day I saw her out again, I didn’t even pay attention to her and she noticed.  She asked “are you trying to be mean to me?”  Then I was nice, “no, hello you want to dance”.  The minute I was nice to her, she walked away and ignored me again.  Randomly, at the end of the night, at the corner store, we spotted each other.

She was nice, then I was mean, I was nice, and then she was mean.  We continued to play the game until.  Then she jumped on me and wrapped her legs around me.  We made out for a while.  Then we stopped kissing, she looked at me and said “I hate you.”  I said, “I hate you too.” We walked away and haven’t spoken since, except for that fucking text.