Dear Nice Guy,

I thought you were the one. And by "the one" I mean the one to help me get back on my feet. You were the classic guy I date after I get my heart broken by a complete and total asshole. You are supposed to treat me really well. I'm supposed to realize that all guys aren't assholes but you just aren't the one. Then I am supposed to go out and find another asshole. Don't you know the drill?
But last night, Mr. Trinidad, was entirely uncalled for. Your Jamaican-like accent and dreads are completely enticing and sexy, but not when they are stalking me. Showing up where I said I MIGHT be for a "girls night" and then getting disappointed when I don't want to leave with you and your friends, not cool. Then proceeding to call and say you want to come sleep at my place and getting an attitude when I tell you that I don't want you driving drunk, not cool. I'm down with you being the nice guy, but please leave clinginess and drama to me. I am still the girl here.

Grow a pair or you're outta here,
M in SF

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