Or if he’s just telling you what he thinks you want to hear…

If he’s really sorry, he’ll send delivery food.

Not all men are linguistically savvy (see previous post), but those who possess verbal caress may not necessarily be of higher caliber than those who don’t. Provide the opportunity for them to prove themselves.

In fact, a distinct characteristic of a fboy (/fgirl; I only speak from my own heterosexual experience, so I apologize for my limited perspective…thus far) is that their comments and behaviors emanate entirely from attempting to persuade a target to sleep with them–without disclosing the intent for a casual fling.

This (fboys vs. players vs. nice guys vs. “covert contracts”), warrants a separate blog post.

Actions speak louder than words. It’s easy for him to simply say, “I’m sorry”…but it’s a little harder for him to put his money where his mouth is.

If he’s genuinely remorseful and not just lazily trying to creep back in your pants, he’ll go the extra mile–or at least pay UberEats to do so. Feasts delivered to your doorstep are the new flowers, but significantly more practical.

It’s that simple. For both you and for him. He clears his conscience–and yes, by accepting his delivery apology, you can now NEVER mention this incident ever again. It’s a small price to pay for getting fed from the comfort of your home, in your sweatpants (not the aforementioned gray ones), without even having to blend your eyeshadow.

If he doesn’t send delivery, then he’s not truly sorry.

So if your Santa Fe chicken sandwich and carrot cake from Veggie Grill don’t magically appear at your doorstep–assuming you’ve clearly expressed your needs–you know the true depths of his apology. Proceed accordingly.

Why would you want to be on the receiving end of someone who can’t deliver?

**Epilogue: GSM and I did finally end up going on a date. I didn’t completely write him off since he did Venmo me for delivery (not as impressive as accurately ordering specified items and having them delivered to my place, but I still consider this an effort to fix his mistake).

Although the chemistry was definitely lacking–maybe he should have worn those gray sweatpants–overall, we had a pleasant time. (Both our post-date texts expressed mutually cordial, “Thanks for the fun night, you’re great blah blah.” Thankfully, neither of us has reached out since). Beyond anything, I respect his ability to take accountability. If nothing else, his actions at least salvaged his reputation.**