Standing up, he put on his slick jacket and leaned on the busy diner's counter. Hoisting his bag, he smiled at the waitress he'd been chatting with. "Hey, want to go out sometime?" She smiled. "No, thanks, but you have a good day."

His smile sagged. "Why not?"

Her smile faltered. "Ummm..."

A shrill whistle blew and both of of them jumped. An androgenous person in a black-and-white striped shirt stepped forward. "Social foul! Two yard penalty!" A sweeping gesture separating the hands accompanied the declaration. Both stared, but the newcomer continued the gesture until the man backed up several steps.

"That's better." The referee turned to go.

"Hey, what's the penalty for?" demanded the fellow.

The ref held up a card. "Yellow card for questioning rejection. You don't need to know why. Social code subsection two, paragraph sixteen. Accept rejections graciously. Do not press, exceptions granted by preestablished agreement."

"That's bullshit," he said. "There's nothing wrong with—"

The whistle interrupted him again. "Two months out of the dating pool for arguing over rejection! You're outta here!" Amid cheers and jeers, he skulked out of the diner.

"Thanks, Social Ref!" The waitress and referee shared a high five.

Freeze frame.