Howdy, everybody. Allow me to re-introduce myself. I'm That Guy. You all know That Guy.

Let me set the scene for you again...

You're out at [insert random weekend hot-spot / hang-out here]. You see this girl who's really, really, really ridiculously goodlooking.

You start schmoozing, flirting, maybe a little dancing. You offer to [buy / punch a pledge in the face in order to get] a drink.

You start thinking, "Man, I'm totally going home with this girl tonight." Then her cell phone rings.

Who's on the other line? It's me. That Guy.

I'm calling her because she's the girl of the week. I'm telling her to come out to [insert random weekend hot spot / hang-out that's way cooler than wherever-the-hell you two are].

She answers the phone because she thinks we're at the beginning of something that could maybe turn into a relationship.

It won't.

You're crestfallen when she says, "I had a really great time tonight. It was nice to meet you, but I'm kinda seeing someone right now."

She's "seeing" That Guy.

Who is That Guy?

I'm the itinerant ass. I'm the guy who "treats women like crap, but still totally has no trouble with girls." I'm the guy every sad sap who just longs for a girl wants to punch in the face.

Don't hate.

All you love-lorn and bleary-eyed guys out there curse my name for keeping all the girls they want off the market.

"That Guy!" You pump your fist toward the ceiling after she turns her back on you to go meet up with me.

I know what you think. That Guy's just going to use her for a week, then ignore her when she tries to drop the 'R' word: relationship.

I'm sure you think you got me beat because you're not chauvinistic. You wouldn't ditch her to play in a Beer Pong tournament with another girl. You'd be so much better.

But just chill out for a hot second before you pass any judgment on me. Ask any That Guy out there. We're just taking the advice your mothers always used to give you. "Just be yourself!"

It's not my fault that I'm a big flirt, extremely confident, a statuesque 6-foot-3, or ridiculously well-dressed. It's not my fault that I've always been comfortable around girls, or that I have the superhero ability to hit on any girl tactfully.

Am I really so evil?

Girls don't want some guy whose sole purpose in life is to serve them. They already have one of those. His name is "Daddy." He gives them credit cards to buy bags or those incredible stilettos.

Girls don't want to be babied, and you don't want to be with a girl who needs TLC 24/7.

Believe me, I've tried to take care of the needy girls before, blinded by their sheer hotness.

It's not worth it.

This is college, here. Always remember that. It's not like we're trying to get married or anything.

So stop complaining, Mr. That Guy Hater. Channel some of our zen.

If you're having trouble bringing out your inner That Guy, just remember: What is it that all girls dig about guys?

Confidence.

The rest is just genetics, and there's only so much you can do about that.