The Nice Guy Bad Boy - when you mistake the naughty for nice

We’ve all heard of and been there with your typical bad boy douche and I for one, have written about this type of man a million times before. He’s a through-and-through player, treats you like a last minute option, strings you along and sleeps around with more women than you’ve probably met in your entire life. Even though the best of us still give him a chance, it’s not like we don’t see the neon signs flashing around him from a mile away and the sound of the fire alarms ringing. He’s generally as easy to spot as a panther in the snow. But what happens when this guy no longer comes in his bad boy packaging we’ve so come to accept and recognise, but instead faces off as a perfectly nice guy? Welcome to 2016, the age of the NGBB – Nice Guy Bad Boy.

The NGBB is not like your average bad boy. Oh no, he’s a whole different breed. When you first met this man, he comes across like a total catch. His suits fit, he seems to be earning enough money to pay his rent and then some, he’s got charm and charisma and those brown puppy dog eyes that make you think he’ll make the perfect husband one day. This is the guy who keeps telling you he’s looking for the real deal, a woman he can marry, settle down with and take home to his parents over Christmas dinner. Eugh, he’s so perfect.

But before you know it, the mask of genuineness, cuddle—worthy behaviour and overall ‘aww’ inducing charm begins to fade and you’re left with a guy who is literally the epitome of everything you thought he wouldn’t be – a total f***boy.

About 2 months ago, I found myself dealing with my very own NGBB. I’m talking puppy dog eyes and everything people. This guy came on to the scene with a whirlwind entrance and boy, did he leave an impression. To commence, he flirted his way to oblivion, chasing me down, haunting me at my coffee shop meets, sending me all kinds of suggestive and cutsey messages and generally hovering around me like a bee. He told me about his 2.5 kids dreams, wooed me with his offbeat charm and totally mopped the floor of my heart with his false possessive macho man act. Naturally, being a 20-something girl whose most frequent dating experiences have included men with pet rocks and failing rap careers, I obviously fell for it. Because goddamnit, he was just so NICE. The coffees commenced, then the drinks, the sharing, the late night texts and most importantly, the flirtatious ‘I’ll-catch-your-eye-across-the-room-come-hither’ stares. We all know eye contact is basically the body language version of sealing the deal.

I was seriously enamoured. Like, here was a guy who was literally textbook romancing me. This should’ve obviously been the point where I also became totally suss, because hello, this is 2016 and you’d be lucky if you met a guy who didn’t call you ‘Ranat’ the whole night (I’m looking at you, guy who spilled all his wine and choked on popcorn and cleaned it up with your pocketsquare). No one is good at romance today unless it involves two swipes to the right under 1.5 seconds. Literally, I can feel our brain cells dying every time we date. So when it came to this guy, the little voice inside my head was like ‘Come on girlfriend, this is too good to be true’ (that voice is called my sister yelling at me on the phone) and I knew somewhere in the back of my mind this just couldn’t be as easy as it looked. But since I am endlessly devoted to Drake, I YOLOed and obviously, it was the totally wrong decision. Again.

Just as I was getting wrapped up in the overwhelming fantasy of picking out my Vera, lo and behold out of nowhere, one quiet night at a friend's drinks, my NGBB decided it would be totally appropriate to spring upon me the fact that he was seeing MULTIPLE WOMEN, many of whom he had been talking to and proactively wooing for months on end. For a moment as the words came out of his month, I actually thought I was hallucinating and my mouth just hung in shock and confusion.

Somehow, he saw this as a cue to continue talking about these prospective ventures, totally oblivious to my CLEAR discomfort and slowly developing urge to heel him in the face. Seeing as he refused to get my hints and continued to harp on about his failed and planned endeavours, the rest of the night as you can imagine, consisted of me sitting there listening and trying not to punch him in the face.

I wondered whether I’d imagined the entire situation and overdrawn his advances as something more than friendly. Was I really just that desperate to meet a nice guy? Had I finally become delusional and batty enough to misconstrue someone’s platonic behaviour to this extent? But the truth was, it wasn’t my fault at all. This guy was a classic NGBB and he played me like the tiny violin I could now hear stringing away in my ears. I had become just another fiddle. My emotions ranged from borderline psychotic anger to absolute acceptance and sympathetic support.

At one point of the night, I actually found myself LITERALLY giving him my shoulder to rest on because I was that confused about the status of what had just transpired between us. That night I went home and cried, mostly from the exhaustion of having to listen to him excitedly divulge his inner thoughts to me all night and my favourite McDonald’s being closed on the way home. Priorities.

Obviously as time has passed, I accepted my fate and downgraded this man straight down to friend status. Yes, yes, stop screaming at the screen, I know I should’ve totally kicked him out but what’s a girl to do okay? I figured he didn’t really mean to lead me on (like he totally did) and I don’t know, the world is so cynical, why participate in that fodder I thought. The messages continued, but slowly waned in heat. The flirtation slowly evolved to friendliness and eventually, it finally felt like I’d gotten over the hurdle of dealing with this potential douchebag.

Cue 2 months later and here I am writing this blog. Why you ask? Because this guy, (welcome back NGBB) has suddenly decided it’s time to have a punt in Round 2 of his debauchery. I don’t know if he fell over on his head at a New Year’s party, had a revelation or has decided to explore the part of his brain that actually works, but man is he putting himself back out there. As well as he can anyway. So have begun the ‘Need to see you’ and 'I always think about you' text messages, the sending of random photos with cute quotes and emojis and the burgeoning desire for one thing and one thing only: attention. January is always a slow month. At the end of the day, dude ain’t bringing no real goods to the table and that just doesn’t fly with me no mo’ (cue ghetto voice).

These so called 'nice-guys' are literally the same as their more brazen, confident and cocky counterparts but at least the arrogant ones are more honest. Being in a relationship takes awareness and maturity and that is the underlining string missing that bonds them. Guys who say they want nice girls then chase after vapid, vain women are only doing themselves a disservice by not owning up to how unready they really are to achieve the married-on-the-couch lifestyle they've talked themselves into. Then they sit and complain about how actual nice guys are finishing last, giving everyone a bad name.

Just when you think you’d seen it all, there’s always a new kind of innovative man-child that pops up somewhere in the world and what can I say, how can you hate them when they keep me in business? For now, just remember my lovers, nice can sometimes be naughty too.

Love R xx