"But what am I supposed to say?" my sister asked, worried.
"Just say it's not shayach. It's a wonderful vague phrase."
"How do I even spell 'shayach'?"
"I know how to spell 'shayach'! But I can't text that."
At this point, a coworker had sidled up to my desk, considerately waiting for my sister to get off the phone. A disastrous outing with a relative of her neighbor required a delicate, diplomatic touch in the refusal.
An irreligious Jew, he seemed to find this conversation entertaining. He smiled sympathetically as I floundered for another response while he listened on.
"Then say, 'It was very nice to meet him, but she doesn't think it's going to work out.' Followed by a lot of gushing thanks for thinking of me, and so on."
"Okay . . . that'll work. I'll text her now. Thanks."
Coworker and I share grins. He didn't inquire, but I'm sure that snippet provided him with enough entertainment for one morning.