Dating : You’re A Nice Guy, Bad Boy

h2>Dating : You’re A Nice Guy, Bad Boy

Jessi Pereira

He’s not interested in the traditions of the status quo. He’s got other engagements. Perhaps it’s his car? His shoes? Or his unyielding ability to stop shopping for leather jackets? He keeps a cigarette in his mouth at all times, somedays a toothpick. He’ll put his tattooed arms around you in public, but only for a second. Forget about a passionate kiss, he won’t do it. He won’t commit. Nevertheless, he’s tangible but only for a night in complete darkness. He’s irresistible — the proud owner of the ultimate dark triad personality. He’s a true Machiavellian man in the flesh. He’s a total asshole. He does what he wants because that’s what he’s meant to do. He’s got an appetite for destruction and a thirst for rebellion.

While that description is extremely corny and riddled with stereotypes, you know who or at least what I’m describing. If you’re washed, maybe you thought of James Dean. If you’re basic, perhaps you imagined Johnny Depp. If you’re me, you’re definitely an idiot and thinking of every crush you’ve ever had. What can I say? I‘ve always liked bad boys.

As a young woman in her early 20’s going through the perils of casual dating, I feel qualified to talk about the perfect bad boy due to my unabashed naivety, arrogance, and growing list of colossal failures.

My crushes, exes, and even unrequited loves have all been bad boys. While individually unique, in some way or another all shared the following: tattoos; a crippling vice of sorts; ownership of fast cars; the inability to flirt traditionally; a myriad of mugshots; hobbies and lifestyles frowned upon by society; and/or no bed frames — only mattresses on the floor. Alright, so maybe aesthetically they’ve all been bad boys.

Tattoos? Maybe he’s creative. Vices? We all have one. Fast cars are fun. Traditional flirting is boring, I’d rather be absolutely roasted into the ground. Mugshots mean he’s either adventurous or extremely stupid, both qualities of someone I find exciting or at the very least, entertaining. Eccentric hobbies are captivating. And maybe, just maybe, his lack of bed frame means he’s still moving in or a fan of minimalism. (I had to try really hard to justify that one.)

So, what about that dark triad personality? The Machiavellian man? The total asshole thing? Why, Jessi, would you keep going back to that if it didn’t work out? And why would to you sell yourself short? What happened to the nice guy? Don’t you want to be treated well by a man who is honest and kind? Not by some douche pretending to be “bad” to fool naive girls like you?

For your information, clown, my findings so far have led me to write this for a reason. You see, the real bad boy/rebel/rogue/the whatever the fuck you want to call him has always been the nice, honest, and authentic guy.

Do I contradict myself? Very well then. I fucking contradict myself. I’m small but I contain multitudes, damn it. Nonetheless, so does the bad boy I so desperately fall victim to every time.

Rebellion by definition is resistance. The real bad boy is a resister. He not wading the trenches of conformity simply because it’s safe. He’s true to himself. He celebrates complete and shameless individuality. The bad boy basks the quirks of being a human being. He makes you feel spectacular about being yourself because you are yourself. And so is he.

The bad boy isn’t an asshole, only when he absolutely needs to be. He’s kind in a world that seems so stuck upon a carousel of cruelty; a byproduct of isolation and hatred that’s so easily perpetrated by the masses. The bad boy can’t fix all of the world’s problems in a day, but he can start locally. He offers to lend a hand, voice, or an ear during a time when it feels like you can’t get a grip on anything. He is there.

In a world that doesn’t give a fuck, the bad boy doesn’t give a bigger fuck. He knows the risks that come with being honest. Yet, he fearlessly uses his voice to speak up. He’s not only truthful to world but with himself. He doesn’t care what you think of him — he cares about what you think of others. He’s protective of what is important to him. If you’re being a piece of shit, he’ll let you know one way or another, tooth and nail.

He’s rebellious. He’s crazy. He doesn’t care.

And I fall for him every time.

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