She hates me, she hates me not, she hates me.

There’s no kind way to let a prospect know she’s no longer a prospect without expecting to find your car keyed or burning poop on your stoop. We all need to stop taking things so personally instead of banging out text after unanswered text.

I’ve numbed myself sufficiently and I’ve also set an unanswered contact limit to two. After that, I assume she’s not interested or incapacitated (and I won’t delve into which one I prefer; let that one stew in my imagination).

The progression of the unanswered contacts usually goes like this:

• I miss you. When are we going to get together again?
• Hi, Sexy.
• Hey, how’s it going?
• Just thinking about you.
• Is your phone working?
• Hello?
• ???
• Really? You’re blowing me off?
• You have some nerve.
• I was never really into you anyway.
• You suck.
• I’ve been turned down by uglier people.
• I’ve already moved on to the next man. I’m done with boys so lose my number.
• Your loss.
• Sorry.
• I was tipsy when I sent those. Please accept my apology.
• Hello?
• I hate you.

There’s simply no way for the recipient of this avalanche of nonsense to respond, other than to hire bodyguards and adopt a large dog. You’ve convinced this person that you have major issues you need to work out and unless the recipient is going to be paid to help (e.g. your therapist), your contacts will be disregarded. Isn’t it ironic too that the person who follows this progression typically has a stalker ex as well?

Men, you need to be extra careful about this. Do not try to intimidate or guilt any woman into intimacy. There’s no reason to frighten anyone. Remember that anything you send can and will be used against you. Tell her you love her. Tell her you miss her. Tell her to have a nice life. Move on.

My buddies enjoy my angst when I run into a jilted ex.

“Holy shit, dude. What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, damn it. I just stopped calling her.”
“She’s right; you’re an asshole.”
“What? Because of radio silence?”
“Women need closure. You know that. Christ, you write about it.”
“And I also write about how I am the coward who will avoid conflict and confrontation at all costs. That’s why we’re leaving.”
“Don’t be a pussy too.”
“She might be crazy enough to make a scene. I’m not taking any chances. There’s plenty of wine in fairer pastures.”
“Eventually you’ll have exes in every bar. Then what?”
“Yoga.”
“Right.”
“Book clubs?”
“Ha!”
“Mall benches?”
“Soon, old man.”
“Fuck. I’m going to stay home and watch movies.”
“Good plan. Oh, and I’d lock the doors.”
“Nice.”

To every ex I’ve ever left, “I’m sorry! Yes, it was you. You didn’t meet my unrealistic expectations. Land Rovers don’t meet my expectations either and they get over it. So should you. Fine. At least leave me alone to disappoint another.”

Uh-oh, ex alert!

You run into people in the strangest places, don’t you? You’re just out minding your own business when you see someone who looks oddly familiar. Your brain scans the files of relatives, coworkers, and classmates. No matches. The person is closing in on you. You blow the dust of your cerebral “names of people I once knew” box and flit through the folders. Hurry!

It’s no use. You’re about to be reintroduced. Last-ditch effort: do the alphabet scan thing.

A – Albert: No. I would never date an Albert.

B – Brian: Hmm, I think I had a one-nighter with a Brian once.

C – Chris: He doesn’t look like a Chris. Maybe if he had lighter hair.

D – Damian: Scary.

E – Edward: My grandfather’s name was Edward. I wouldn’t have forgotten that name.

F – Oh, fuck … too late.

“Hi, Beth, how are you?”

“Fine. So nice to see you again.”

Here comes that awkward hug. Maybe I can match the scent.

“Nice to see you too.”

“Gosh, it has been so long.”

“Oh, silly, last spring isn’t that long ago.”

Time to recover. I wish my dumbass friend would introduce herself before I embarrass myself.

“To you, maybe. I’ve been so busy.”

“So, who’s your friend.”

Come on, girlfriend. God, she’s stupid. This bitch is buying the rest of the night.

“This is Allie.”

“Hi, Allie. I’m Franco. Beth and I met on eHarmony and went on a date last year.”

Fuck!

“Look at that: My glass is empty. Be right back. Anybody need one?”

It’s wise to remove yourself from the stressful situation to regroup and analyze. Search your phone. Nothing. No use signing into eHarmony here. I suggest you use humor to diffuse the situation. If that doesn’t work, lie.

“Oh, hey there, Beth. Welcome back. What are you drinking?”

“Vodka.”

“… and club soda?”

“… and more vodka.”

This is where your friend excuses herself to allow you to do some treading in the tears of your ex.

“So, I never heard back from you.”

“Um. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“That’s OK.”

“Good.”

“I mean, I liked you and thought we were a great match.”

“Aw.”

*gulp*

“I still do, in fact.”

“You’re sweet.”

“But, you never returned my calls or text messages, so I assumed you weren’t interested.”

“Right. Well …”

“You don’t have to explain. Jeez. It’s like almost two years ago. I’m over it. No biggie.”

“Ah, OK.”

“I’m still single. How about you?”

“Kind of dating someone.”

“Is it serious?”

*gulp* I’m going to kill Allie.

“Serious enough.”

“Do you think you’ll marry him?”

“I don’t know. Gee, where did Allie go?”

“She’s over there talking to the bartender.”

“Oh, maybe she needs a hand.”

“I get it. You’re trying to ditch me. That’s OK. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“No, not at all. Look, Franco, you’re a great guy. I just wasn’t ready back then, I guess.”

“Well, if you weren’t ready you shouldn’t have been on eHarmony and you certainly shouldn’t have let me take you out.”

“Yep. You’re right.”

*gulp*

“Why don’t you make it up to me by letting me take you out tomorrow night?”

“Because I’m dating someone, remember?”

“You’re just making that up as an excuse to get away from me.”

*gulp*

“Be right back. Hey, Allie …”

As we toss bodies on the pile of exes, we’re eventually going to have to deal with the stench or find new landfills.