I’m waving the white flag, because I’ve seen his red ones. For the first time in my dating life, I found a fella that my friends hated.

We had similar interests. We talked about movies. He said all the right things. And I was blinded by the “like.” Revved up like a deuce, another dater in the night.

I’m sorry for that. I had to.

Anyhow, when Mr. Not-So-Much started reaching out, I was stoked. Attractive, well read and a possessor of fine musical tastes — there wasn’t much not to like. Or was there? Because the writing was on the wall, but I just couldn’t see it.

After a work event, we met up, as I dragged my friends from one Sixth Street slum to another (red flag No. 1). The friend introduction finally went down (after another Sixth Street incident involving errant flip flops and a drunk friend (red flags No. 2 and No. 3, respectively), and as I sat, semi-moon-eyed and half-expecting him to be a hit, I was blindsided by my BFFs.

I know, I know. Following a guy down Sixth Street like some lost sorority girl puppy? I don’t come off smelling like roses here. But bear with me. He had all the right things to say. He called me "Ms. Floyd." I DON’T KNOW.

He poured out each and every reason why we were meant to be (admittedly, laying it on a bit thick), pointing out mutual favorite bands, books, even restaurants. A veritable laundry list of compatibility.

But while everything he said seemed like the right thing to me, my friends were less convinced. My smitten state gave me the blind eye to his calculated conversation. What sounded like the perfect pitch to me, sounded like the perfect plot to my friends.

“You can't date that guy!” They screamed it as we left, then later in the car and the next morning for good measure. What had they seen that I hadn’t?

To them — and later me — his words weren’t genuine, but all-too-carefully chosen. He was a regular dating Mark Twain, spinning yarns with aplomb.

As I mentioned last time, it doesn’t take much these days to sway a single gal. We’re so used to zero effort and faltering flings that a few common interests and a couple of carefully chosen words and we’re on board. But am I settling so much that I’m missing out on the mixed messages?

Some girls might be able to look the other way when it comes to a friend veto. “Maybe he’ll get better,” “maybe they’ll come around,” etc. But I’m not one of those people. If those that know me best see him as a "can’t do," then I can’t do it.

Am I wrong to give a guy the boot because my friends say no? I’m not losing sleep over this misstep, but I’m hoping it doesn’t become a trend.