Some of my straight female friends say they like to date a “bad boy,” but no one can explain what it means. Is a criminal record required? Are BO and ugly clothing necessary, or just a delightful plus?
I’ve known some misogynist guys, especially in the rock and hip-hop arena who brag about being bad boys. They claim to be rebels, but are just dime-a-dozen clones with crappy sex technique.
It infuriates my friends when I say that repressed women like to blame the mythical bad boy for their own desire to enjoy quick, inconsequential sex.
The really annoying part is listening to women whine about what assholes guys are, when a pig who sees a woman as nothing more than a cunt that talks is exactly what turns them on. Your thoughts?
A Badass Bi-Girl
Ah, the mythical bad boy. . . . I’m probably the wrong girl to ask about this particular phenom because my first boyfriend was so bad he beat me, raped me, and stalked me after I finally managed to escape the relationship.
But then the kind of bad boy your friends are talking about isn’t a pathologically violent sociopath who deserves to be stripped naked, beaten bloody, covered in maple syrup and then locked in a small box with 300 starving rabid weasels. Nah, the bad boy your pals want is a far more benign creature. He’s not a misogynist; he’s just your garden-variety jerk. He’s the kind of guy the Shirelles (and later Johnny Thunders) were talking about when they sang, “He’s good bad, but he’s not evil.” Bad Boy is probably in a band. He might’ve had a tortured childhood, and if he hasn’t, he pretends he has. He’ll think nothing of standing a girl up. Her parents will hate him. He’ll mooch money off his girlie constantly and always “forget” to pay her back. He may have issues with condoms. Despite his reluctance to glove the love, he’s a chronic cheater. He truly believes his is a deep and tortured soul that no mere mortal could possibly ever understand. Yeah, right.
I can certainly understand your annoyance with your rather inarticulate and unimaginative circle of friends. Especially as they’re allegedly telling you what they want, but can’t even define what that is. I’m guessing your pals are the kinds of dames who enjoy tedious game-playing and have a surplus of patience for self-involved morons probably because they’re not so clever themselves. Instead of trying to decipher this idiotic ideal they’re seeking, I suggest you concentrate on finding a more interesting gaggle of ladies to hang with.
I hesitated printing this letter because I fear it will provoke a flurry of annoying letters about how tough it is for you alleged “nice guys.” So in case anyone’s thinking of writing in whining that this reader proves that women do love jerks, don’t. Nothing chaps the Dategirl’s ass more than droning missives on the unfairness of it all. The only women who prefer jackasses are either morons or too young to know better. You don’t see Badass Bi-Girl or myself extolling their virtues, do you?
I’ve been reading your article for years, and I have a few questions:
(1) Have you ever written to another advice columnist(s)? What for?
(2) Have you noticed you curse more in your responses to questions lately?
(3) Does it bother you that your article is (spatially) right after the hookers and sensual massage ads?
Dr. Peter
Wow, a doctor! I’m so excited! Thank you for your very concise and orderly questions. Here are my concise and orderly answers:
Yes. This is humiliating to admit, but I wrote to Garrison Keillor when he was doing the Mr. Blue column at Salon.com. I was distraught and unable to afford therapy after a particularly devastating breakup and so I reached out to Garrison Fucking Keillor. Kill me now. Even more embarrassing was the fact that he didn’t answer me.
No, I hadn’t fucking noticed that. Are you fucking sure? I’ve always had a goddamned motherfucking pottymouth. This is not a new fucking thing.
Who doesn’t love hookers and sensual massage?!? Are you kidding? Have you read my column? Why would I mind that?
What do you mind? Write Dategirl at dategirl@seattleweekly.com or c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western Ave., Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104.
