It’s a major problem that millions of men are fighting worldwide. I’m a victim. I live with… It’s a major problem that millions of men are fighting worldwide. I’m a victim. I live with six other guys with the same ailment. There’s even a good chance that if you’re reading this column and have a Y chromosome, you’re riding on the same boat.

We are the nice guys. We’re all over the place – walking down the street, standing across from you on the bus, sitting behind you in English class. We’re the quiet ones, minding our own business, staying out of trouble. If you take the time to look around, we’re pretty easy to find. I don’t have any trouble recognizing nice guys. It’s like having a hidden rash: Others may not notice, but for a fellow victim, it’s easy to spot just by the way someone is walking.

Now, being a nice guy isn’t such a bad thing, as long as one isn’t caught up in frivolous desires, such as happiness and female companions. It’s unfortunate for us that these two things have become so closely related, but we need something to hold us over between sporting events. The thing is, girls don’t like nice guys. They prefer this other specimen, the loud, obnoxious kind with huge biceps and even bigger egos. For the purpose of this article, I’ll refer to them as the Donkeys. The Donkeys are our enemies.

If you’re a girl, you’re probably saying to yourself in your cute, little puppy-dog voice, “But I love nice guys!” The only problem with this is that you are also kidding yourself.

I’ve been out-gamed by ill-intentioned jerks with more tattoos than good manners. I’ve been looked down upon by a girl for not having any prison time on my personal record after a friend of mine bragged about his night in the slammer. I didn’t know that being locked up in a cell with a 300-pound man was a turn-on. The truth is, girls – even the nice ones – go for Donkeys, leaving us nice guys out in the cold and alone.

Our main problem is that we respect women. While some may spot a female and think “meat,” we see her and think “flower.” We pace around in circles, reciting to ourselves what we want to say when we finally approach her, making sure that every syllable is perfect and romantic. But, while we’re busy conjuring up Shakespearean sonnets about Cupid and Aphrodite, our gentle rose is already on her way home with a wasted Donkey, clutching his manly chest so she doesn’t fall off his motorcycle as he takes the turns dangerously fast.

I know it’s possible that I could just be using this as an excuse for my horrific women-skills. Maybe I’m too shy and stutter when I talk. It’s also possible that you could shut the hell up. This is a real problem, and I refuse to believe that it is my fault. And it’s my column, so I can do what I want.

I actually grew up thinking that men were supposed to be nice to women. I was lead astray by guys like Romeo Montague and Corey Matthews. I had this crazy idea that chivalry and self-respect still existed. By the time I realized how horribly wrong I had been, it was already too late; I was a nice guy. Now I’m stuck without a Juliet or a Topanga – though, seeing how Romeo turned out, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

Though it’s hard to say this, part of me lays the blame on the women, not the Donkeys. Donkeys wouldn’t exist if girls didn’t let them. If girls rejected the Donkeys and went for nice guys, then all the Donkeys would cross the line and join our side. That’s the difference between us and them. I’m not about to turn into a Donkey just because other people want me to.

Some people have told me that eventually the nice guys will win. The girls will one day come to their senses and realize the mistake they’ve been making, around the time they are searching for husbands. Although it helps a little to know that one day we may have a chance at happiness, this line doesn’t do too much for me right now. It’s a lot like how a freshman engineering major feels – sure, they may get a good job in the future, but right now they’re too busy with their 5,000 hours of class to think about that.

To the guys: Why not try to be nice, at least for a little bit? It’s not that hard and it has to have some advantages, although I haven’t found any of them yet.

And to the women: Forget the Donkeys. Give a nice guy a chance for once, especially if that nice guy is me.

Please, e-mail Sam at [email protected]. Seriously, please do it.