Steve* classified himself as the “nice” guy. After wondering whether I was in a pattern of picking the wrong guys, I really wanted to give the “nice” guy a chance.  Well let me tell you something, the nice guy is bullshit. Do not judge this nice guy book by it’s cover. There are truly good men out there.  There are truly kind men out there.  But I’m telling you please be weary of the guy that calls himself the nice guy.  That’s a victim mentality and it’s a crock of shit.

Steve and I met on bumble. We chatted for a bit. I met Steve outside a wine bar for our first date.  I was intrigued and thought okay, he was friendly and mildly attractive.  Sorry not sorry but it’s the truth. In fact, I thought he was cuter on the first date then for the rest of the few months I was with him. We had good conversation.  He told me he did music on the side – hip hop. I thought that was so interesting and similar to my comedy side hustle.  It also gave him some edge and appeal that I didn’t otherwise think he had. Okay, this guy likes hip hop, he must be kind of cool, right?! 

In the course of the brief few months that we dated, I was unsure the entire time.  I should have known that I shouldn’t be pushing myself so much.  I never actually thought he was that great.  He just was so into me and willing to do anything to date me that I just kept on going with it. Sometimes I would be really into him. But most days, I walked down the street with him wondering if people looked us and thought “How did he get that girl?”.  That is NOT a good sign!

Let’s fast forward to when I thought that perhaps I was actually “in it”. Steve kept talking about wanting to go away for New Years.  It was kind of a nice feeling. I felt consumed that this guy already wants to go away with me, but also I didn’t want to commit to traveling for New Years with him. I was trying.  I was really trying. 

Can we talk about that for a second?  Trying to see what something is or could be is actually okay. I’m not the devil because I dated someone for about three months that I wasn’t sure about.  It takes time to see who someone is – see what they’re like and to give them a real chance.  I mean hellooooo people. I’ve certainly been on the receiving end of that.  I also think that we often ignore the signs that someone may not be all in when we’re really into it. So maybe he didn’t see what I was giving off a lot of the time. But then again, I completely own that there were days that I felt good with him.  There were days that I really enjoyed spending time with him.  But alas, if you’re walking down the street and wondering if this is what I end up with, then it’s a no go my dear friend.

Let me reiterate that the guys that call themselves the “nice” guy aren’t so fucking nice.  Steve told me about a woman he dated for two years because, “I felt bad that she was so in love with me so I stayed with her”. UM, THAT’S NOT FUCKING NICE. Way to go wasting two years for a woman in her 30s. You felt bad?!  Be an adult and say you don’t feel the same way and let her be with someone that’s right for her. 

On this particular morning, we were looking at hotels and flights to go away for New Years.  They were all very expensive. Even the flight on the airline that Steve had a credit with was expensive – the credit was not going to cover the whole flight. Steve had a decent career with a great apartment, but I didn’t expect him to pay for the whole trip himself.  We had discussed me paying for my half. So if I’m paying too, we need to factor in the cost. 

One hotel that we were looking at that morning was a ridiculous villa in Panama with a private pool. It was $4,000 for four days.  Yes, you read that correctly.  $4,000 for four fucking days.  I was like oh that’s so nice but so expensive. I then then got up to pee.  I came out of the bathroom and he looks up at me, “I booked it.” 

I literally freaked the fuck out. “How could you possibly have booked this in the two minutes that I went to pee?!”  He just stared at me.  “But I thought you liked this hotel?” I just stared at him.  “Yes, Steve.  The hotel is amazing.  But when did we agree on $4,000 for four fucking days?! I don’t have $2,000 for just the hotel to give you!” He then retreated into his little baby boy body sulking. He said he would pay for the whole thing and not ask me for money.  I mean that’s one solution but really this whole thing just didn’t feel right.

Steve just whimpered like a little baby.  Listen, I like sensitive men.  But I also like men that can take care of shit.  I have literally been taking care of shit for myself my entire life.  I cannot take care of everything for my man also. Please be reasonably competent and know how to function as you walk through life. Listening to Steve try to fib and change the story that he accidentally pressed the button that said confirm and didn’t realize that meant he was booking the hotel just didn’t make it better.

As Steve stared at me dumbfounded and unable to think of his next move, I told him to call Expedia right away to cancel.  I sat there listening to him on the phone thinking “I cannot be with this guy”.  It’s been barely three months and I was already feeling the need to take care of everything.  This guy cannot handle anything more than the average day to day activities. He whimpered on the phone with Expedia as I sat there embarrassed for him.

Let’s talk about what women mean and want when they say that they want a man that can take care of shit. It’s not about whether a man is masculine.  It’s not about whether a man is big or tough.  It’s about handling things.  Can this man handle shit? It’s more than being able to make dinner reservations or cook for me.  Fuck that. It’s about feeling hot in the middle of the night, and getting your ass up to turn on the air conditioning instead of waking me up to tell me that you’re hot.  It’s about looking for the condom in the bottom of your drawer the first night that this new beautiful goddess is in your bed instead of laying there paralyzed thinking that you can’t have sex. It’s about coming home on the first cold night in November and knowing how to work the fucking heat in your apartment. I will not and cannot do every single thing. As I said to Steve that first night sleeping together when he didn’t know how to look for a condom, GET IT TOGETHER.

Listen Steve isn’t a bad person.  He’s just not the “nice” guy that he thinks he is.  Most importantly, he wasn’t the guy for me.

*Name has been changed to protect the so-called “nice” guy