“It’s not only that he doesn’t want to get married–it’s that you know all the time he’s unworthy of you.” Helen Gurley Brown Sex and the Single Girl.

I call these guys cads, but they’re also referred to, by themselves, as “nice guys” and they’re the absolute worst kind of man.  As soon as a guy says he’s a “nice guy,” run, run as fast as you can.  Also, he will probably either wear a fedora or a bowtie.

My first encounter with a “nice guy” was Joe at Binghamton University.  I was young and naive and still into musical theater, so I thought a guy in a fedora who sang Frank Sinatra tunes to me during fire drills must be absolutely in love with me . . . until he kept trying to dry-hump me–after I pushed him away–while we were watching Lord of the Rings.  Not okay.

Musical Theater guys are the absolute worst because they’re all cads.  I just met one during auditions for Little Shop of Horrors (he was reading for Seymour, I was reading for Audrey in the scene right after “Suddenly Seymour”) who almost kissed me in front of everyone, including Ian, who was auditioning (and landed) the part of The Dentist.  You’d think that the dumb cad would have noticed that I walked in and am sitting next to this guy I keep snuggling up to, hmm, maybe we’re dating.  But I, like the bimbo I can be, assumed he understood this arrangement and offered to meet him for coffee.

We hung out a few times and had some really great conversations, but he kept trying to grab my ass even though he was sitting on the couch in the home I shared with my boyfriend.  Apparently, he couldn’t stand the Friendzone he’d voluntarily placed himself in and ditched me for some other blonde.  My pride was more wounded than anything, because I hate that kind of garbage from men.  I make my position known right up front–you have no right to act like I went and broke your little heart.

But here’s the kicker, dear readers.  I didn’t get the part (it went to a 16 year old moron who managed to not go completely flat on at least 1/64th of her notes) but on opening night, I wore my Betsey Johnson booties, a belted black tunic and leggings, and when he saw me outside, he pushed his girlfriend out of the way to get to me.  Yeah, I’m that good.

I never saw him again and I’m fine with that.  I mean, really, who needs a cad?

But in all fairness, some of them can be very sweet.  Dan’s a good example of this–Dan is a good friend and a sweetheart, but he is an utter and devoted cad.  He loves women too much, I’m afraid, to keep his hands (or his lips) off a pretty one that drifts by.  He’s not mean spirited or dishonest . . . just a silly romantic still chasing that perfect love.