why do nice guys even enter the race if they're just going to lose?
It's closing time and he's on your lips like a bottle of cheap wine on a friday afternoon.
You come tumbling out of the bar, where I'm already waiting for you. You expect me to hold you up and help you walk. I do because I'm a fool. We haven't walked far and you realize you forgot your purse sitting on the table. We return to the bar to fetch it. The doorman is nice enough to let you back in.
As I'm waiting outside, he spots me and saunters over. The small talk is awkward and I know he's just standing by me because he knows you will be back. I want to punch him in the face, but using my better judgement, I don't.
Yeah. Sure doesn't pay to be a nice guy anymore, does it?
You come tumbling out of the bar, where I'm already waiting for you. You expect me to hold you up and help you walk. I do because I'm a fool. We haven't walked far and you realize you forgot your purse sitting on the table. We return to the bar to fetch it. The doorman is nice enough to let you back in.
As I'm waiting outside, he spots me and saunters over. The small talk is awkward and I know he's just standing by me because he knows you will be back. I want to punch him in the face, but using my better judgement, I don't.
Yeah. Sure doesn't pay to be a nice guy anymore, does it?