I've had the 3 a.m. call. Someone, sounding guilty, asked for my boyfriend and muttered something about the cops asking questions.
Gratefully, I honestly answered that I didn't have the slightest clue where my (now thankfully ex-) boyfriend had gotten himself. I wasn't that polite, though. I never am at 3 a.m.
I have dated bad boys, but the late-night excitement slowly eroded my tolerance - and interest. Nice guys (and gals) get a bum rap, especially in their teens and 20s. It's as I reached my 30s and beyond that the adventure of dating a bad boy wore off.
Eventually, owning a working refrigerator had more appeal than posting bail bond for a deadbeat - no matter how yummy the kisses.
As I currently slog through the Internet-dating trenches, I'm ecstatic to find dozens upon dozens of nice guys out there. Nice guys who are available and, according to their profiles, are actively seeking serious, committed relationships.
Unfortunately, some slipped over the edge into sickeningly sweet-nice. Shining off their halos could cause blinding headaches.
Over the Internet I've noticed a few prospects I admire and appreciate for their contributions to society. I wish them the very best; I just won't date them.
MR. PREACHY
This is not a guy thing. Women friends like to tell me how to live my life, too. The difference with friends is that I'll listen indulgently and ignore them completely. However, nothing kills romance faster for me than hearing my lifestyle choices are all wrong.
Smoking is deadly. Have we all figured this out? I think so. Do I want to hear lectures, as a non-smoker, during a date? Nah.
My failure to recycle enough, work out enough or eat a purely vegan diet are issues for my conscience - not my date.
Don't get me wrong. I'm glad these guys preach in their personality profiles. It gives me fair warning to look elsewhere.
MR. DO-GOODER
I do good. I volunteer, and such work is very fulfilling.
That said, paragraph upon paragraph on the saintly, selfless giving done by a prospective date doesn't make my heart go pitter-pat. A first date spent at a soup kitchen also fails to spark my interest.
Guilt - about not doing enough, not being enough and not caring enough - is a real buzz-kill.
I admit it: In a romantic relationship I want to think I'm the nice one.
And too much back-patting sounds more like overweening nice-ness than genuine care for fellow beings.
MR. YES-DEAR
Internet profiles filled with nothing but descriptions of how much the guy likes to create a romantic atmosphere and shower his special lady in royal luxury sounds very nice, very accommodating and pathologically passive.
Admit to some interest, please. Fishing, motorcycling or collecting the bagpipe music of 1940s doesn't interest me. But my collection of yo-yo's might not sound sexy, either.
What scares me more than the thought that these nice guys will do anything to accommodate me is that they may have no interest besides following me around.
Some people have doormat personalities, but I wouldn't advertise it - it isn't attractive.
BACK TO BASICS
The best of all worlds, of course, are nice guys who look like bad boys. Prospects that have a few vices to keep them from delivering righteous lectures and who know better, after overcoming a vice, than giving in to the impulse to turn preachy, saintly or fearful.
So, stand up nice guys (and girls) of the world and claim your right to date and be appreciated.
For those who must be nicer than all the rest of us, step off the soapbox, take time from the soup kitchen or peel yourself from the front door stoop. I recommend a walk in the sun and a little summer fun. Let me know if you want to borrow a yo-yo.
Sofia lives in North Seattle. She welcomes your comments or questions at needitor@nwlink.com.
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