Settle for the jerk who whines that he's a "nice guy" now
The rest of us are tired of hearing him bitch. Well, that seems to be the motivation for this advice column from iVillage titled "Give Nerds a Chance". Apparently, nerds are supposed to be nicer than the average guy, a myth that can only persist for people who have never spent a moment chatting with people in an online video game. This is a columnist for iVillage I've never read before, but already she irritates me by profaning the word "grrl" by using it as a moniker.
Looking for a nice guy?
No, you're not. Not according to DoubleYourDating.com and AskMen.com. These sites, and dozens like them, say that what women really want are jerks who will treat them badly.
Yep, the guys at AskMen are classic nice guys--obsessed with manipulating and controlling women, endlessly whining about how women don't try hard enough for their affections while simultaneously asking why they can't get more women in bed, trashing women's rights and otherwise behaving like jerks and wondering why women don't appreciate how "nice" they are. It would make no sense in another world, but in ours, right-wingers are so used to saying one thing and meaning another that this makes perfect sense. "Nice" on AskMen means "complete asshole". Why he can't get the women? Well....
Why are women attracted to jerks?
I often look to nature for answers to these kinds of complex questions. My fascination with animal behavior stems mostly from a crush I had on Jim, the sexy dart-gun guy in khaki shorts on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.
Translation: "Nice" men, don't fear me! I am not one of those scary women who learns and knows things because she likes it. Goodness no! The only driving force in my life is sex; so don't fear that I would correct you when you are wrong or anything awful like that. I only care about how you look when you spout off that brainiac stuff like how women are naturally inferior. Larry Summers, for instance, made me swoon when he said that women aren't good at math. I knew then and there that's the sort of man who would indulge me for spending too much on clothes and shoes because my silly female brain just couldn't comprehend the prices.
Human females need to follow the lead of our guppy sisters and progress to choosing men based on qualities that aren't ultimately damaging to us. We are choosing jerks, which, through the process of natural selection, is causing there to be more jerks.
If men are jerks, it's our fault, ladies. First of all, they get laid occasionally. Second of all, and more importantly, jerks are woman-born and therefore our fault. This is useful information and something to remember when you're thinking of calling the cops. If he did something to you, it's either your fault or the fault of some other woman.
It is my honest feeling that men like my boyfriend William, who are former members of the high school audio-visual club and are obsessed with high technology, are the men who are the best hope for evolution. Plus they make great boyfriends. They are sweet, gentle and fabulous in bed, and they are eternally grateful to be with you ‑- who doesn't want that?
William may be all that, but I assure you, from one nerdy girl to another, that nerd does not equal nice. Nerd can also mean guy who talks over you, both attracted and alarmed at how smart he thinks you are. Nerd can also mean Ayn Rand-reading outcast who doesn't get why a smart girl like you can't conform to his opinions.
"Look," I whisper to Renata, "the thing about nerds is, they can't really talk to you on their own, but if you can just get them talking about some gizmo, well, that primes the pump, so to speak."
Why do I have an eerie feeling that someone's sexual fetish is being pushed on the rest of us as a formula for happiness? Look, I have a sordid history of going for rebellious types and musicians, but I would hardly recommend it for everyone.
Renata, a curvy redhead, gathers her courage and wades into the sea of headgear. She heads for a slightly balding guy with a fit athletic build. His face is obscured with giant fly-eye goggles.
And then she got the first hard, cold lesson of Women Who Date Geeks. You may think your smoking hot body will get his attention, but there's no way in hell you're going to win a contest between yourself and his video game.
And then we get a darling story that never happened:
As she approaches, he reaches out his cupped hands toward her ample breasts. His hands come within millimeters, and she smacks him away. Shocked, he lifts off his headgear.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Renata screeches.
"I, oh God, I thought you were part of the VR program. I'm, oh God, I'm so sorry-"
Red-faced, he begins to slink away, but Renata stops him by laying a hand on his arm.
"Hey, it was an honest mistake. I'm sorry for overreacting." Renata smiles.
Our writer made this story up or Renata and she are dumb enough to think that the story's hero cannot tell the difference between the animated women of programmers' dreams, fictional women whose dimensions put Jayne Mansfield to shame, and the mundanity of a real life woman's body, no matter how ample.
"Listen," Renata persists, "I'm really interested in... that thing you had on your head. Can you tell me about it?"
Oh, can he ever. About a thousand gigabytes later, he and Renata have exchanged phone numbers by beaming their information into each other's palm pilots.
The moral of the story: Women, in order to have a man, you must either put up with abusive asshole or someone who bores you to death blathering on and on about shit you could care less about. Your choice. But don't forget that being boring never put anyone in the slammer.
And guess what ‑- when he says he's going to call, he calls.
Damn, give that boy a gold medal in Basic Manners 101. I say we tag-team him in gratitude, ladies. Who's with me?
And when he takes her to a movie, well, it usually has aliens in it, but that's a small price to pay for dating a nonjerk. Renata is doing her bit for the survival of humankind, so ask yourself, are you doing your part?
Fuck a nerd for your country! What, do you hate America or something?