THERE GOES THE BRIDE JILTED GROOM SHOULD JUST SAY NO.

Byline: Stephanie Becker Local View

TALK about your case of cold-hearted cold feet. I'm referring to that runaway bride, Jennifer Wilbanks. She's the woman from Georgia who secretly high-tailed it out of town just days before her mega-wedding. Her disappearance was long enough for the media to start salivating at the thought that her fiance was the next Scott Peterson. Although the jilted groom, John Mason, showed no signs of nefarious behavior, having neither dyed his hair nor called on the services of a famed defense attorney.

While I'll leave it to others to say what they will about the rushing bride, I'd like to give Mason some sage advice from one dumped lover to another:

In the immortal words of Nancy Reagan, ``just say no.''

I know you still love Miss Wilbanks and want to marry her, but don't do it. Think about that first time she's the tiniest bit late for a rendezvous - you're going to start checking bus schedules and recent haircuts. Instead, may I suggest you turn this entire episode into a lucrative deal for a special edition of ``The Bachelor,'' where the women run toward you, not away. Or maybe an exclusive contract to appear on ``Desperate Housewives.'' You did a pretty good job as a desperate fiance.

By the way, I know the authorities are considering criminal prosecution. May I suggest some alternative sentencing? The bridal registry lends itself to a perfect plan. Those 600 invited wedding guests add up to a lot of ice buckets and coffee-makers. The dashing dame should be made to return all the Kate Spade serving pieces, the Lenox china and the Belgian waffle iron. Standing in line for merchandise returns is its own private purgatory.

While some have called for jailing Jennifer, I think she's already suffered enough. For the rest of her life, she will have to live with the image of herself at the airport with the world's most hideous blanket draped over her head. Did she not learn anything about marketing from Martha Stewart's post-prison poncho? Although that blanket of shame could end up making some big bucks on eBay.

Mr. Mason, I know you are sad now, but work with your notoriety. After I got dumped, I didn't have to pick up a dinner tab for two months. I was the poster child for a victim of love. But there is a statute of limitations and it's probably in direct proportion to the time it takes you to get those reward donations back to the donors. Or when you start dating someone else.

On that score, may I suggest you draw up a list of nonnegotiable items. I'm guessing that you'll want someone who has never skipped town or been to Albuquerque. I've come up with a pretty good evaluation test. Spelling doesn't count because it's an oral exam administered somewhere between learning a potential date's first and last name. It's like the SATs. You can't prep for it. It has none of those what's-your-favorite- food/color/Beatle questions. You want to know the important stuff. Like: Have you ever traveled by bus? Which is more powerful: the IRS or PMS? Have you ever faked ... an abduction?

Wilbanks says she needed some time alone. It's quite possible she'll get a lot of that in an 8 by 11 space. And if she does get married, here's the perfect gift: a LoJack wedding ring.