Like Looking In A Mirror

Last night, I was watching Billy Wilder's Oscar-winning 1960 film, "The Apartment," starring Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine. First, let me just say that I wish comedies nowadays could be half as good as this. Jack Lemmon was freakin' Peter Sellers with subtlety. Go out right now and watch "The Great Race," "The Apartment," and "Some Like it Hot" RIGHT NOW. I can wait.

Done? Good. Anyway, I couldn't help but notice that I pretty much AM Jack Lemmon's character, C.C. Baxter. He's a nice guy, kind of a pushover, with relatively mediocre aspirations and a carefully hidden romantic side. That's the part that reminds me of me. He also happens to be stuck in an awkward situation that may end up leaving him jobless and disgraced among his only friends, his elderly Jewish doctor neighbor and the good doctor's wife.

Long story short, he falls in love with a woman who operates the elevator in his office building, though she doesn't exactly love him back. The woman, Fran Kubelik, utters my favorite movie line ever at one point: "Why can't I ever fall in love with somebody nice like you?" Ladies and gentlemen, I want that on my tombstone. If I had a nickel for every time I heard some version of that line said directly to me, I'd own the Denver Broncos right now.

Here's the thing I really don't get. (And ladies, you can jump in anytime on this thing and try and explain it to me. Seriously. I'm really hoping for some honest feedback on this. If you don't want to leave a comment, then email me, or catch me on IM sometime. Those are both on my profile.) In reference to the question Fran asks, why don't you? It's as simple as that.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I have about 80% of what women claim to want in a guy. Of course, the problem is that I don't believe a single word of those claims. I don't think you REALLY want a guy who'll be a good father, has a sense of humor, is smarter than a bale of hay, isn't too bad to look at, gets along with your family, is polite, showers regularly, doesn't scare children, and can sit through a chick flick without gouging his own eyes out. What you really want is a badass rebel with tatoos and a motorcycle and scars from a bunch of knife fights and... like, a hand grenade. Oh, come on, everybody likes a hand grenade. Let's face it. You want Snake Plissken from "Escape from New York" and "Escape from LA."

Go ahead, ladies, prove me wrong. Next thing I know, I'm going to hear all kinds of other excuses, but you know and I know that you're just fooling yourselves and us. You don't actually want a nice guy. I'm just so sick of being placated with that same crap over and over again. Tell us what you really want, and it'll be easier on both of us. Keep pretending that you want to end up with a nice guy, and we're forced to do our own ridiculous routines, trying to make you think we're that rebel jackass from the movies that all us men secretly loath, even though we like to project that appearance to women.

So here I am, exposing more of myself than is probably safe, healthy, or even advisable, but I don't really care anymore. I just want women to know how I feel when I hear them say that I "should have a girlfriend, because you're so nice and such a sweet guy." Oh yeah? Well how's this for nice and sweet: Shut up. I don't want to hear it anymore. Don't tell me with hollow words. Tell me with actions. If you can't do that, then I'm forced to assume my theory is right, and you're all just lying through your teeth about how you feel about nice guys.

There, I said it. I have to admit, I feel pretty good about it. Though I'm rereading some of this and preparing for the possibility that I may never get a date again after having lashed out like that. But you know what? Screw it.