This phrase is a classic, like wonderbread. It’s a staple for a reason. You can dress it up with extra smooth creamy peanut butter: “It’s not you, it’s me….let’s just be friends.” Or you can serve it ala carte, extra dry: “This isn’t working out, so let’s just be friends.”  I think I’ve used some version of this classic more times than I care to admit, although the connotation of this phrase has changed for me in recent years.

The other day, one of my bread buddies asked me how to confront and tell a girl who was attracted to him that he wasn’t interested — but nicely. I said, “Easy! Do what I did with you when we met.” We’d become such great friends in the passing years that he completely forgot he had ever sent signals my way. Before he had a chance to properly ask me out on a date and in between bites of my giant Philly Steak pita (looking as unsexy as possible) I nonchalantly stated, “I think we’ll be really cool friends.” I tried to sound indifferent; the same tone I’d use to chat about the weather/geometry/mitosis. Thank goodness he was a smart cookie and understood what I meant. But I was completely prepared to continue my thought with why I thought we’d be great friends: similar career paths, easy-going attitude, the outrageous number of hours we were going to spend together on our advertising final…I wasn’t feeding him a line, I really wanted to be friends. He had the best answer I could have ever hoped for. Shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly he said, “Cool. I have always have room for more friends.”

I used to believe the “Let’s be friends” line was extra polite way of saying “No, thank you” with a dusting of powdered sugar on top. That’s probably how a lot of people use it. So, I’ve resolved to try my very best at using this magical phrase only when I truly mean it. Now, if only I could figure out what to say all the other times…