Rules of Interwebs Dating, Part III

A few of you got a bit frothy about about GNTEP because you claim that Guideline Number Two Exit Phrase isn't very direct.* And possibly there are a few people out there who may think GNTEP borders on Playing Games. I hope that it goes without saying that Playing Games is NOT COOL. But I don't think the GNTEP qualifies as Playing Games. And this leads me to...

GUIDELINE NUMBER THREE
For the average intelligent Canadian dater, a little subtlety is perfectly acceptable.

We live in Canada. Or at least I live in Canada. (If you live in NYC, then I guess you can go ahead and ignore this next bit.) We are a polite people. We find overly direct conversations to be a bit like drinking Pepsi straight from the 2L plastic jug: uncouth, messy and bad for one's health.

Accordingly, I assert that it IS possible to let someone know that you're not into dating them without emotionally smacking them in the face with the details. But let me be clear: there is a small window in which Guideline Number Three is appropriate. Once you've been seeing someone for more than a few weeks, or you've had dinner and breakfast together consecutively (if you know what I mean), then the window CLOSES.

For example:

SCENARIO ONE: Are you breaking up with your live-in girlfriend of three years? Has her ongoing baby-talk and insistence that you refer to each other as 'My Wittle Wove Muffin' finally driven you to the brink of insanity? Yes? Well, you're going to have to have a few conversations with her about it before you can start looking for your own pleather-lined bachelor pad in Parkdale.

SCENARIO TWO: Are you just wrapping up a second date at Dufflet, wherein the zip of the luscious lemon tart was the only thing holding your attention as Heraysheeo spoke non-stop about his vintage album collection while asking NOT ONE QUESTION about you? Hit that boy with GNTEP and head on home, no conversation required.

Scenarios One and Two are NOT interchangeable, people. If you think you're ditching your Wittle Wove Muffin without having a couple of lengthy chats about the State of Things, then you're pretty-much a giant douchebag, and you deserve it when you find out all of your clothes have dyed baby pink and run through the office shredder before she packed them up.

By the same token, if your second date paramour rings you at 4:30 am to further discuss his fave albums from the late 80s (Spin Doctors' Pocket full of Kryptonite totally rocked my world in 1989!) on the same evening that he's been dealt Guideline Number Two Exit Phrase, you're entirely justified in glancing at your call-display and then rolling over to go back to sleep, return phone call not required.

* Those of you who know me In The Real World and would like to debate these issues are also welcome to do so in the comments section. But if you use My Real Name, your comments will be DELETED. Because... y'know... the anonymity of the Hurratios must be protected.