Why Nice Guys Finish Last: Your Kindness Won’t Buy You Love (Or Anything Else)
Insert kindness coins, receive sex — a modern dating myth busted.
I’m a human being, not some mechanical mistress where you insert kindness coins and sex pops out.
I’m not here to satisfy your cravings with the push of a button.
This isn’t an all-you-can-eat buffet where you pay a little and expect to gorge yourself.
I’m a Michelin-star dining experience and your fast food mentality isn’t on the menu.
My refusal to engage doesn’t make me cruel; it makes me someone who respects my own limits and expects you to do the same.
Let’s start with the basics: “No” is a complete sentence.
It doesn’t need an explanation, apology, or a user manual.
It’s a simple, elegant word, isn’t it?
Just two little letters.
Yet, for some, it seems more confusing than quantum physics.
No isn’t a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.
It’s the simplest code in the world: a boundary, a respect, a right.
It doesn’t mean “try harder,” “ask again later,” or “maybe if you buy me dinner first.”
When I say “no,” it’s not an invitation for a debate, negotiation, or challenge for you to overcome.
It’s as final as a checkmate in a game of chess.
Your fear of rejection is not my emergency. It’s not even a mild inconvenience.
Newsflash: rejection is part of the game. It’s the risk you take when you play.
Your fragile ego isn’t a Rubik’s cube for me to solve.
If I wanted to play psychological games, I’d stick to Sudoku.
Your belief that I should mold myself around your carnal desires is a laughable plot twist in the soap opera of entitlement.
The idea you’re somehow owed my time, body, or energy because you showed basic human decency?
Another one of your jokes I don’t find funny.
I’m not a genie in a bottle, waiting to deliver your three wishes.
The idea that a polite interaction guarantees you a golden ticket is not only outdated, but also wildly arrogant.
Believing your persistence will wear me down is like expecting to dig a hole to China with a spoon — impractical and based on faulty assumptions.
Imagine if every “nice” act you performed wasn’t a breadcrumb trail leading to my pussy?
What if you were just…nice?
Radical, I know.
But here’s a wild thought: kindness for the sake of kindness.
Revolutionary!
Your genuine humanity could be the prize, not some sleazy trade-off.
It’s like thinking you deserve an Oscar just for watching movies.
When you say nice things, it doesn’t build up some invisible balance you can cash in for a romp in the sheets.
This isn’t a twisted game of Monopoly where you pass Go and collect 200 orgasms.
In the grand theater of life, consider this: if you understand my boundaries are not obstacles to overcome but essential lines drawn for my well-being, you might just get a delightful conversation or a heartfelt connection.
But expecting more just because you’ve deposited your kindness coins is not only naive but also reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of human interaction.
Naturally, the sitcom of your life has run its course, and I’m not your desperate housewife.
No amount of chivalry, compliments, or nice gestures will turn me into a dispensing unit for your desires.
It’s like thinking you’re the star of a one-man show when, in reality, everyone has left the theater.
Genuine connection and mutual desire cannot be faked, bought, or demanded.
It’s like a fine wine, cultivated over time and with care, not a cheap beer you chug hoping for a quick buzz.
If “no” bursts your bubble, welcome to reality.
It’s not my job to soothe your bruised ego or validate your misguided sense of entitlement.
People are not ATMs.
So let’s all take a deep breath and accept that no means no.
It’s liberating, really.
You can stop performing kindness as a ritualistic dance to seduction.
If you’re still looking for a vending machine, I suggest checking out the nearest office building.
Until then, keep your kindness coins in your pocket.
I’m not here to be bought — I’m here to be respected.
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