NICE GUYS FINISH LAST
by Gary Jonas

"Tell me about your love life," the fat woman said.

Eugene Smith wanted to get up and leave the shop right then, but he forced himself not to move. He sat on a tanning bed--the place was a tanning salon before the witch took over--with a fat, ugly woman seated on a stool before him. The table beside her was covered with small bottles--they looked like the complimentary liquor found in hotels. The woman wore a black T-shirt with WITCHCRAFT, INC. emblazoned across her ample bosom.

"Look," Eugene said, "I stopped by the shop because it got my attention. Your sign about love potions made me think one would be the perfect gag gift."

"Not true," the woman said. "You came in here to buy a love potion because you don't have a love life. I need to know about you so I can choose the right potion. You do want it to work, don't you?"

"I don't believe in love potions."

"It doesn't require your belief, Mr. Smith. It only requires that you drink it. What do women say about you?"

Eugene sighed. "They say I'm nice."

"Ouch."

"Sucks, doesn't it? I tell them I'm not nice, but they assure me that I am. I get dates every now and again, but the women always want to be friends not lovers. Do you think I'm ugly?"

"No, Mr. Smith. I think you're quite handsome."

"I've answered personals," he admitted. Now that he was talking about it, everything just came out. "These girls advertise that they want someone who will respect them and treat them with kindness. Someone who has intelligence. Women constantly complain that they can't find a nice guy to settle down with. Well, damn it, I'm here! There are a lot of us, but women have no interest in us." Eugene gave a half-smile. "Not that I'm bitter," he said. "But when a woman tells me she wants a guy who's just like me, but not me...."

"It's all right, Mr. Smith. I know the potion you need. It's my most popular mix. For the magic to work, you'll need to follow my directions to the letter. Witchcraft is mostly about rituals, you understand, and while most of it is already covered when I make batches of the potions, there are still a few steps you'll have to do on your end."

"Hey, I've tried dating services, personal ads, blind dates, singles bars, you name it. Why not add ritualistic witchcraft to the list?"

"That's the spirit." The fat woman started lifting bottles and reading labels. "Here we go," she said and handed him a small bottle. "Drink this."

"Now?"

"Yes."

Eugene uncapped the bottle and tossed the liquid down his throat like a shot of whiskey. "That tastes horrible! What's in it?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"I don't feel any different," Eugene said.

"The potion will need about a week to take effect. During that time you are not to bathe or change clothes. That will help the potion bring about some changes in your temperament."

"Like what?"

"It depends on your body chemistry, actually, but either way it goes, it will work like a charm. Either you will lose all of your ambition for success and you will vegetate in front of the television in your underwear playing Nintendo games or watching football while eating popcorn and guzzling beer--"

"Whoa! Time out. How will I attract a woman if I'm in my apartment doing nothing?"

"They will sense you. Women have a built in loser-radar. They love to hook up with guys who will never in a million years amount to anything. A beautiful woman will show up on your doorstep and she will buy you anything you want and she'll clean up after you and take care of you for as long as you will ignore her."

"I don't want that kind of relationship," Eugene said.

"Then it will probably swing the other way. You will be charming when you meet a woman and she will agree to go out with you because she will sense something dark and distasteful lurking beneath the surface. Then after a few dates that will seem pretty normal to you, you will become abusive. You will instinctively lash out with emotional and physical attacks. From the time you first hit her and call her a bitch, she will be forever in love with you. From time to time, she will call the police on you, but don't worry, she won't press charges. You will be your nice self every now and again, but when she starts to lose interest, POW! you'll beat the hell out of her and she'll fall right back in love with you."

"No," Eugene said. "You don't get it. I don't want to be changed to get a girlfriend or a wife. I want to attract a woman who'll take me as I am now."

"Mr. Smith, let me clue you in to something. Nice guys finish last. If you are nice, girls will not want to be with you. They don't want nice guys, they want losers. It's that simple."

"There has to be a way," Eugene said. "Why don't you make up a potion I can slip into some girl's drink?"

"That goes against my witch's ethic. I won't change someone who has not asked for it."

"I want to be me," Eugene said. "But I want a woman."

"A woman I can get you. Love, I can't. Not without turning you into a jerk."

"But I've seen nice guys with beautiful women."

"Probably arranged marriages," the witch said with a grin. "However, Mr. Smith, there is a way you can get a beautiful woman to put up with such eccentricities as kindness and respect."

"Name it."

"Become a millionaire."

"I'd have to be rich?"

"Yes. Why else would a woman put up with a nice guy? But she won't love you. Is that clear? You want love, you stick with the potion you just drank."

"All right," Eugene said. He dug out his wallet and paid for the potion. "I'll live with it. But tell me the truth. Why can't you give me a potion to attract a woman who will love me as I am?"

"I'm a witch, Mr. Smith. Not a god."