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Dump His Ass and Take it Up Your Own

By Amil Niazi

Friday March 4, 2005

He’s Just Not That Into You

It seems impossible lately to avoid hearing the phrase “he’s just not that into you.” A recent book by the same name, quilled by two former Sex and the City writers, has been furrowing female brows across the continent. The authors claim a host of purported male “excuses” actually imply genuine disinterest in their female predators. Seemingly a collection of common sense anecdotes, the book does raise questions regarding inter-personal relationships. Are men really as simple as hungry or horny?

As an intrinsically awkward human, I’ve found it unbearably easy to turn the simplest situations into complex mind games. However, I’ve heard from several well-adjusted sources that what you see is generally what you get. Most of the men I’ve grilled on the subject tell me in almost all cases, it’s not difficult to know exactly what man-boys want from you. Especially if it’s nothing at all. Well if it takes two self-aggrandizing yuppies to tell you some moron suit doesn’t want to inseminate you after the first painful date, spend the $29.99 freely.

If, however, you’re interested in accumulating actual life experiences, with a mandatory amount of shitty heart-breakyness, save your money. So he’s not that into you? I’m sure there are just as many men who’ve had to deal with your clichéd — “I’m really busy”, “I’m not ready to date” and my personal favourite “I have Super AIDS.” Who gives an ass?

Lonely, pasty women with blue Smart cars and office-bum may have the leisure time to brew over the details of their last Lavalife encounter, but for the rest of the functioning, intelligent females of the world this kind of bullshit is trivial. If it’s a matter of trying to “understand” the opposite sex, don’t. We are all equal parts insecurity, narcissism, fear and naiveté. We all wrestle with questions of social appropriateness, dating logistics and courting concepts. We are all afraid of rejection and we all get dumped (present company excluded). You don’t need a book, website or woman’s group to tell you that.

In a moment of innocence, I asked my father how to tell if a boy “liked” me. After insisting it would be easier to attract them in the first place if I brushed my hair and stopped dressing like a hippy, he asked me if I “liked” this boy. As far as he’s concerned, you make the call, put yourself out there and adjust accordingly. Action – reaction. And once I got over the creepiness of asking my father for relationship advice, I admired the pragmatism in his words.

Apparently it never dawns on us to be honest with ourselves or the rest of the population. The idea that if we toil hard enough and stew long enough we will acquire some kind of skin surpassing ESP, that we’ll just be able to tell what’s going on, hasn’t paid off, so let’s take a different approach. Nailing yourself to the cross might sound like an extreme analogy, yet for the most part it’s what you have to do. Prepare for violence, but don’t be afraid of redemption. For further evidence, here’s some sample advice from the aforementioned book:

Dear Greg,
I have a crush on my gardener. I brought out some beers and we talked. I think he wants to ask me out, but is afraid because he is my hired man. In this situation, can’t I ask him out?

Dear My Secret Garden,
He’s capable of asking you out. Haven’t you ever seen a porno? But seriously, if he didn’t pick up the vibe after the beer garden, it has nothing to do with you being his big boss lady. Time to stop and smell the bad news: He’s just not that into you.
Now that you understand some of the heart-wrenching and compelling problems the women who might read this book encounter, you can see what a waste of time these kinds of self-help tomes are. When the homeless Quebecer on Commercial Drive didn’t ask me out after I threw a quarter in his shoe, I didn’t take it personally and neither should you.