Okay, this is how it goes. You get an orangutan. I’m not talking a little monkey or some dancing chimp bullshit, I mean a fucking orangutan. Don’t ask me how you’re gonna get a fucking orangutan, because that’s not my problem.
So the orangutan’s name is Clyde. This is non-negotiable; all orangutans are named Clyde. I don’t know why that is, it’s just how the world works. So you and Clyde become man (and ape) about town. You’re seen everywhere together, you make the scene. You and friends go out in big groups. You talk loud, you laugh louder. Every time you say something witty, you high-five the orangutan. The town begins to buzz. It gets back to her. “Did you know the guy with the orangutan?”, “You used to date the guy with the orangutan?”, “Why would you break up with a guy with an orangutan?”. Next thing you know she’s calling.
“I’m hoping we can still be friends. Wanna hang out sometime?”
“Geez, I dunno; me and Clyde were going to go to monster truck race tonight (orangutans love monster trucks). In fact, the whole social calendar seems kinda full. I tell you what, I’ll make a little note (what was your name again?) and maybe I can squeeze you in. Oh well, you know my number so don’t be a stra– Hey, look at the time! I gotta skate, Clyde’s making Mojitoes.”
At this point, the upper hand is yours. You can let her twist in the wind, you can draw her back into your life at the pace you decide. Whatever, it’s your life. But if you’re a smart man? You slowly phase her back in. You’re IM-ing. You’re talking on Live. You get invited to family functions. You bring Clyde, he becomes like one of the family. You’re one big Brady Bunch.