What he said to me was, “You’re such a nice guy, Mike. The nicest.”
What he meant was, “Everyone is trampling all over you. You’re not aggressive enough. You’re never going to get anywhere in life, and you certainly aren’t going to find success in this company.”
I’ve heard it a thousand times before.
“Mike, you’re such a nice guy.”
“Mike, you’re the nicest. So nice.”
Which would be great if it were a compliment. But it’s not.
Of course, there’s truth to what they say. I am nice. I do treat others with kindness. I would give you the shirt of my back if you needed it.
But their so called compliments are laced with an undercurrent of misgiving concerning my ability to get ahead in life or, at the very least, avoid the wrath of distrustful, self-interested sinners who would rob me of my possessions, my honor, and my virtue.
These stabs at my character disguised as flattery are enough to make me wonder if I should be more of an asshole.
Nice guys finish last, right