Whenever I introduce myself to a woman, I always make sure to slip in the fact that I am a very nice guy. I then proceed to repeat that fact any time there’s a pause in conversation. I think it’s important to constantly remind women how nice I am. How else will they be able to figure out that I am such a good, kind man?

I volunteer once a month, and bring a professional photographer along so I can get high-quality Tinder photos of me ladling soup or whatever. Whenever I see an elderly woman about to cross the street, I offer to assist her, and immediately ask if she has a hot granddaughter with whom she’d like to set me up. I always agree to help my friends move, and then spend the entire time flexing in the hallway in case a female neighbor walks by. And I do it all nicely, because I am nice and so are the things that I do.

I also constantly befriend women with the sole intention of slowly manipulating the friendship into a romantic relationship. Don’t get me wrong—I do act like a good friend, for as long as it helps further my long-term goals. Did I mention that I am a nice man? So why, then, do women still act like they don’t owe me a chance at romance? Do they not realize how nice I am? Did I not act like a good friend for at least a few minutes? Do they not understand that I’d be a good person to date because of those two reasons?

When one of my female friends recently went through a rough breakup and needed to talk to someone, I was there. I thoughtfully listened to her and offered compassionate advice based on my own experiences with heartbreak. As my friend hugged me and thanked me for supporting her in such a difficult time, I saw the perfect opportunity to ask her out.

“How about dating a nice guy like me for once?” I asked her with my nice mouth. Sure, I destroyed our friendship. And, yes, I hijacked her moment of emotional vulnerability to satisfy my own needs. But that does not make me a bad guy! What the heck happened to all that goodwill I built up by momentarily offering my shoulder to cry on?

If, for some strange reason, women decide that they don’t want to pursue a relationship with me, the nicest man in the world, then I feel that I am owed a detailed explanation. You see, unlike most guys, I’m a big feminist. And, as a feminist, I believe that women should be empowered to date nice guys like me. Specifically, they should date me.

It’s pretty clear that the only reason women wouldn’t want to date me is because I am too good of a guy. What else could explain it? Yes, I lack any discernible passions or interests. I own two motorcycles, but no plates. My apartment is technically a “condemned meat locker.” But it’s definitely my extreme niceness that drives women away.