Rejection is a dish best served from a safe distance

When I began dating again, several months back, I was afraid of rejection. I know, I know, I seem so incredibly cool and full of self confidence (full of something, anyway), it’s hard to believe I would be fearful of getting shot down by a member of the fairer sex.

It turns out I had nothing to worry about. Oh, I’ve been shot down on a couple occasions, but the experience wasn’t nearly so terrifying as it had at first seemed. Rejection is nothing to be afraid of. Nobody is a perfect match for everybody, so there are bound to be a few encounters where things just don’t work out.

The hard part is not in being the “rejectee” but in being the “rejecter.” At least that’s how it’s worked for me.

There is no good way to tell a woman you’re just not that into her.

Most women are smart enough to figure it out by the end of that first date. I’m not sure what non-verbal cues I’m sending under those circumstances, but they must be fairly obvious.

I have had a couple dates, however, who needed to be told in plain English that a romance wasn’t gonna happen. That’s the part that isn’t easy.

A favorite “it ain’t happening” message involves no words at all; just a gentle pat on the back during the “goodbye hug.”

The pat says, “Thanks for coming. It’s been fun. But I don’t see us living in the little white house with a picket fence any time soon.”

Caution must be used with this one, however, as a hug without the back pat sends a different message entirely.

If the back pat doesn’t work, you can fall back to the standard, “It was fun, thanks. I’ll try and get hold of you later this week, but my schedule’s pretty full.” Translation: please forget my phone number.

Another good one is, “Thanks for coming. I had a good time. A girl/guy as great as you is sure to find someone perfect real soon now!” Ninety-seven percent of all girls (and at least 50 percent of guys) get the meaning of this one right away.

I’m thinking about this because of a date I went on a while back. I hadn’t seen a photo of the girl I was meeting, but she assured me on the phone that I “wouldn’t be disappointed.” We met for drinks and she was right, I wasn’t disappointed. She was cute, intelligent, personable, and appeared to have all her teeth.

And I felt nothing for her. Not one thing. It was like having lunch with my sister. Maybe it was incompatible pheromones, or maybe somewhere deep in my subconscious she reminded me of my great aunt Ruth. I don’t know. But I do know there was no “chemistry” happening there at all.

When we said goodbye, it was with a small, friendly hug. I told her what a good time I’d had, and patted her on the back. She smiled and said we should get together again soon.

All the way home I agonized over how I was going to let her down easy. The phone was ringing when I walked in the door; it was her.

“I just wanted to thank you again for lunch,” she said. “But, you know, I just didn’t feel it for you. You’re a great guy. I’m sure you’ll find someone perfect soon.”

I told her I had prepared an almost identical speech. We laughed about it, talked for a while, and decided to remain friends. She’s the first female “just a friend” I’ve had since high school. She calls or texts me every so often and we chat. It’s great. No pressure to impress, no romantic boogieman peering around the edge of every comment.

Why can’t real dates be like that?

Missed a week? More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.