Uh-oh. Someone’s ego must have taken a beating lately, because over at Dustbury there’s a debate over the definition of “nice guy.” Specifically, Chaz quotes Paul of York who seems to believe:

Nice Guys … are guys women do not want to meet but have to sometimes and will never get serious with or be seen with, if possible. Look it up, if you don’t believe that.

Well, gentlemen, I beg to differ.

From this end of the gender pool “niceness” is, like beauty, in the eye of the beholder. My experience tells me that men who classify themselves as “nice guys” are, more often than not, desperate, clingy validation sponges who abandon all boundaries and self-respect in their eternal quest for the affection of a (usually unworthy) female.

And then we all hit our mid-30s and (hopefully) realize that the only way to be truly loved is to first be truly ourselves. We draw boundaries. We expect courtesy and consideration in equal proportion to that which we give, and we cease giving it when it’s not returned.

That’s when nice guys prove to be the best men, and that’s when women realize we’re lucky to have found those few truly nice ones who aren’t being nice simply in order to be loved. And we marry them.