I Hate “That Guy”

I have the flu, which is disappointing because I was sure this was going to be the week I finally rendered this column moot by finding true love. I scheduled four social events for this week and only all four of them were Dungeons & Dragons-related. Oh well, it’s just the flu. Unless, of course, it isn’t.

I haven’t had health insurance for a few years now (because I’m an entitled narcissist), so I’ve become a solid self-prescriber. My process goes like this: (1) notice symptoms (2) ignore them. For best results, add water.

However, whatever I have right now is hanging around most unmercifully, and causing me to pen epistolary protest like a dandy, so I may need to seek additional medical counsel — from the Internet.

[I promise, I will not make a joke about the frequency with which WebMD diagnoses cancer.]

First, to look up my symptoms: sore throat, fever, aches, nasal congestion and finally, “It’s hard to write this column because I think everything is funny because of the flu in my head,” which is what I just Googled. And … holy shit! Look what came up:

Do you guys remember this article? Back in December, 2011, Gene Marks, a self-described “middle aged white guy” was so moved by an Obama speech that he decided to pretend he was a poor black kid just long enough to tell real poor black kids how to succeed. One assumes that, after writing the article, he went back to being a middle aged white guy.

I mean, I get it. Full disclosure, I have a Forbes.com column myself, so I know how these things work. First, you write a link-bait headline on a topical issue. Next, you sit back and cash in on the pageviews. However, Mr. Marks claims most vociferously that he is an unpaid contributor. So I guess he just likes the attention.

Then again, what do I know? After all, this is Gene …

and I don’t even own an umbrella; if it were raining money I’d just get bruised.

Anyway, the article received much justifiable backlash and then everybody forgot about it. Gene is back to doing what he does best — blogging about small business things for a variety of outlets. Good for him; he’s doing it right. And good for everybody who continues to employ him because pageviews. And good for me for getting out of bed for the first time today. Take that, flu!

So, it’s all good. Right? Wrong. You know what pisses me off? I bet people sleep with this guy. Probably even attractive people. And that’s horrible. See? This is a dating column, damnit.

I don’t know Mr. Marks’s sexual history, so let’s not even make this about him. I’m not mad at him so much as at what he represents — the stereotypical “that guy.” Money umbrella guy. Wears a shirt that is slightly too roomy and balloons out above the belt and at the elbows guy. Self-satisfied guy. Thinks poor black kids are dying to hear his advice borne of an entire evening of putting himself in their pennyless loafers guy. This guy is getting laid, right now, all across our great nation. I know it. Think about him! Getting laid! Think about him getting laid! You all know this person. If you are struggling, try picturing the last guy you saw wearing his cellphone in a belt holster.

That Guy’s happiness is like a cudgel to my loins. That Guy clearly has no capacity for the introspection empathy requires, or the ability to cultivate a self that transcends stimuli-response. That Guy…uh oh. Oh no. Look deeper, Jason. This doesn’t feel right. There is something problematic here.

I don’t like the way this is going. I think this is where Nice Guy behavior starts. First, you hate the man (often The Man); then, the women who like the man; next, you generalize the characteristics of all parties involved, play the martyr, and, finally, hate women categorically. That Guy begets Nice Guy, begets another; there’s a litany of Guys to avoid becoming. It’s the hate version of the classic literary love triangle, only nobody is being killed by a gun that’s really a penis…yet.

I don’t want to go down that path, so let’s return to the health theme and do some healing. I will now say the following aloud:

• It should not matter to my self-esteem that That Guy loves his life and is adored by many, including those he sleeps with.
• It is not on me to judge That Guy’s worth based on a character I’ve foisted on him.
• If I’ve search-optimized and linkbaited this properly, Gene Marks will find this article and it will upset him. He will not be able to understand the postmodern dating column in which he is now an unwilling participant. I should not hate him for this. To be fair, I barely understand this column’s conceit myself.
• Hi, Gene! (I bet people who are friends with Mr. Marks have to work on their “Hi, Gene!” Slow it down.…)
• That was worse than a WebMD joke.
• This is no longer a list of things for me to say aloud, is it?

The bottom line is, That Guy deserves happiness. That Guy can enjoy money and small business and can pat himself on the back all he wants. This isn’t about him; it’s about me. Time to look inward. Let’s take it to the moral.

[Cue Scrubs end-of-episode music]

You can go through life angry at strangers, but that just leaves you sick and lonely. Instead, focus on your own happiness, because if you are a thoughtful person, you will need to tend to your happiness. Being a thoughtful person is difficult, occasionally painful work. You will harbor concern for impoverished minorities for longer than it takes to fire off a pithy, self-serving article. You will allow for the possibility that your dating woes have more to do with you than with your potential matches, or the assholes they may or may not date. You will edit out that paragraph you wrote about what somebody’s bald spot looks like.

Finally, as a thoughtful person, you will care about the author enough to find him some health insurance, or at least a fresh box of tissues. Or an umbrella. You know, if I were a poor white blogger.…

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