Leave it to the desperate and horny to turn a social networking sites, originally intended for recent college grads and underclassmen into a meat market.

There’s nothing wrong with liking someone and hitting up their profile to see if they are single, employed and the like. Assuming the person is your facebook friend, you should already know this about them.

The real problem with FB cruisin’ (to use a rainbow term) is stalking those you don’t know at all or know but not really.

Manny called me one night perplexed.

“SG, this chick is stalking my FB page?”

“Well just block her.”

“That’s not going to do anything. We have other friends in common and she’ll just look through their pictures to find me, comment and send e-mails.”

“Do you know this chick?”

“Yeah, she was cool. She’s actually  friend of a girl I briefly dated but recently I noticed she was looking deep into my pics. Like she’d comment on picture #118 or any picture that had me and another girl in it.  SG, you know how many clicks that is. Its like she was rummaging through my garbage. I feel violated. ”

I felt Manny’s pain and offered some suggestions.

In turn, he wanted me to address this growing problem of FB stalkers.

Folks if you like someone or are interested in getting to know them just send them a message and build up to asking them out. Don’t you know how foolish you look commenting on picture #225 or seeing them in real life and quoting some wall convo they had with someone else?

Under any circumstances are you allowed to question someoneon about their FB interactions:

“So who’s the chick who wrote she can’t wait to see you on your wall?”

It doesn’t matter how slick you are with your question the impression is the same–you have nothing before to do than watch their every move.

I had an ex hit me up about a pic of me on FB: “SG, I didn’t know you were seeing someone.  Who’s dude with his arm wrapped around you?

“Excuse me? Since when did you start jockin’ my FB page?”

Needless to say I blocked him from my pics.

When used right, social networks are just for that socializing. Stop hiding behind your keyboards and make a move.

We are grown!

- SG

Fellas, if you have used this argument: “I’m a good dude; problem is chicks don’t want a good man.” Chances are you have convinced yourself that GOOD is a nice way of saying what you really are-WEAK.

Now, not all good men are weak but a majority of them are and they think that is the reason why they get -ished on. While it is true that most women like a guy with a little bit of asshole in him (it shows that he can’t be pushed around and will cause a ruckus if need be) we don’t really want the bad guy. We settle for the bad guy ’cause he has stronger legs to stand on than the nice (translation: weak guy). With the bad guy you know what he is about.

Let’s define weakness:

WEAK

Function:

adjective

Etymology:

Middle English weike, from Old Norse veikr; akin to Old English w?can to yield, Greek eikein to give way, Sanskrit vijate he speeds, flees

Date:

14th century

1: lacking strength: as a: deficient in physical vigor : feeble , debilitated b: not able to sustain or exert much weight, pressure, or strain c: not able to resist external force or withstand attack d: easily upset or nauseated <a weak stomach>

If you are a weak man chances are you are:

• Passive
• Indecisive

Passiveness isn’t that big a deal if every now and then you call someone out (to their face) and speak your mind when a limit is reached. Who wants a punk ass man?

The real killer is indecisiveness.

If you are indecisive (”I don’t know what I want for dinner, honey what do you want for dinner?”) your woman will lose all respect for you.

Once you have lost her respect, you have lost her!

If you look at the traditional way of things men were the hunters and women the nurturers. Women still want to take care of a man who can take care of them, a man who can make decisions. As women, we don’t have to agree but it’s nice to know that your man has a vision, a goal, a road he is set on, a plan of attack.

In the great cheestastic sci-fi flick, Species, the lead character is this alien-human woman who is on the search for a man to impregnate her. She breaks free from her government lab and hits the streets, giving her ass to any man she finds.

But, there is a catch. With her super aliens senses she can tell if her prospective mate is weak. If he is weak, she kills them.

This poor guy had diabetes. (LMAO!)

Like her, I too wish that sometimes I could off a weak ass dude, tie cement blocks to his feet and send him to the bottom of the ocean. Trust,  that would be much easier than telling him to his face “You are a punk and you need to grow some balls.”

Ladies, let’s not fool these men anymore. When you dumb a dude don’t say: “I think you are great guy but I am not ready for a relationship.”

TELL THE TRUTH!

“You are too bitch-like for me. Get some bass in your voice, make clear decisions and stick to them without my input. Oh and while you at it, treat me like a lady you want, not a woman you need.”

There, I won’t even charge you for that. Take it, say it and hopefully you can save a man’s life.

- SG

“Women need to give the nice guy a chance. Only Black women try and tame the bad boy. White women marry lames all the time for security. They fuck bad boys in college and that’s it.” – Manny, my man friend

I’ve never been the one to seek the bad guy, the kind to come over and wear it out then steal money from your purse while you take your after-sex shower. I have, however, had a dude ask me for money for the bus and jack me for my phone headsets. It was the same man and yes, he had a record but the ohhh wee was sweet.

Coming to terms with the fact that it’s not just the men I pick but rather the men that I don’t pick and all that I am missing out on as a result is enough to take me back to the drawing board.

Perhaps I have neglected the Nice Guy pool.

What am I, like most women, looking for:

Stability: Nice guys are stable for the most part. They are so nice they don’t spend their time chasing behind women so that means they focus on work, family and building their lives up.

Romance: Nice guys love to make love and buy flowers and pick up that little necklace he noted that you admired in the Tiffany’s catalouge. Since they don’t spend their time being dicks they are more in tune to you.

Commitment: Nice guys always want to commit. That’s because they still have faith in relationships and rather be involved then raked over the coals by some she-devil who will suck them dry.

Nonetheless, as a single girl, I still fight my instinct to reject the Nice Guy.

The Nice Guy really just wants to be loved, like every woman. Yet when we women see someone in the living flesh who reflects the same needs, wants and sensitivity that we ooze from the hairs on our heads to the cuticles on our toes (twofold between the months of Nov – Feb when the holidays remind us how much it sucks to be single and we are bombarded with the worst question in the world, “Why are you single?”) we want to grab them by the nuts and yell “Man up, you fucking pussy!”

Why do we hate the Nice Guy?

My reason, I find them pathetic. To further cement my sentiment I took Manny’s advice and went out on a date with a Nice Guy.

Lord have us Mercy…

NG picks me up from work.

He drives, a plus.

I walk outside to find him standing there outside of his car. We hug. I don’t want to be rude plus my co-workers were watching so I don’t want to son dude with my usual anti-PDA stance. This is a first date.

He opens the car door for me and presents me a bouquet of white roses.

Nice touch.

We get in the car. He asks me where I want to go.

SG: I know a nice Italian place two blocks from here.

I usually like the guy to pick the place. It shows me how well traveled he is on the restaurant circuit and if he is willing and ready to command. I’m old fashioned like that. If I have to pick the day, time, spot, after spot I might as well strap one on and fuck you at that end of the night.

NG: You want Italian, I know a place!

Off he drives, across a bridge, onto a high way, hitting RUSH HOUR traffic. The next hour and a half he tells me his life story. The tragic-ness of this NG starts to show…

NG: I was with my daughters’ mother for 16 years. We didn’t get married because she was still married and wouldn’t get a divorce. I brought her four sets of engagement rings, each one more expensive than the next. Still she wouldn’t get a divorce.

Kill

NG: I left her and met another woman. Five hours after we met she told me that the Lord spoke to her and told her that I was her husband. We got married six months later at the J.O.P but I had only spent five days with her during those six months. I just really wanted to get married.

Me

NG: She was pregnant when we got married but it turned out it wasn’t my son.

Now

We make it to his spot only to find that it was closed, like out of business. The nearest thing was Applebee’s. His heart was broken because he really wanted to show off.

We eat.

Over the entrée he tells me his credit score.

Not impressive at all.

How he loves to shower his women with gifts.

Gag.

That he knows women take advantage of him.

You think?

I won’t bore you, or me, with the rest. But the night ended with him desperately wanting to buy me the new Robin Thicke album since I brought it up over dinner, mere filler convo. He takes me to a nearby Kmart and searches for the CD. No Mas. I end up walking out of there with a huge bottle of Tide. I needed to do laundry.

Thanks NG, my clothes are spring fresh and I’m never calling you again!

Not all NG’s are this damn depressing. I really learned that Nice Guys are men who don’t want to play the game and want to address women head on, straight and with emotional honesty. They are willing to give us the same things we beg the trifling men for. Yet, we don’t want it.

Take it from me Nice Guys, pull it back a little. You can do and say all the things you feel but in moderation. Women are the only one’s who have a pass and can recover from being desperate.

Maybe more women should take a note from the White Women’s Guide to Love and Marriage and turn those Nice Guys into husbands.

I mean, who really wants to die alone?

—Says the Single Girl

Originally posted October 31, 2008 on