I have rejected a number of guys in my short lifetime.
From all those “Drive-by Hollas”
I’d sometimes Hollaback.
But that’s as far I would take it. Just say “hi” and keep it moving.
Used to be a time, when I’d go to the club and there was always a guy or three wanting to dance:
And maybe buy me a drink:
And then eventually ask if I ‘d like to…have some sweet stuff:
But a few Fridays ago, I finally decided to come out of the cave and soothe my primal needs. I had been distracting myself with other activities, until I felt that I was ready to be “out there”. Last June, my male friend tried, unsuccessfully, to hook me up during a fun night out. But I felt it too soon and the handsome man was too married.
But now its been about…18 months, but whose counting? So I thought I might give it a stab. I have even been lurking around my old online profile; but I don’t think I want to go back to the site again.
So nonetheless, my wingman takes me out to several bars in Manhattan along the Upper Westside. With some liquid courage, I was able to start some pretty good conversations and even shamelessly touch and caress the targets’ arm to signal that I’m ready.
Turns out, no one was ready.
I was rejected about three times that night, ( I think twice from the same person).
The last guy I ended up having a great conversation with…I think. Well, I remember the most about him. Including the fact that he just broke up with his girlfriend earlier in the week.
Boy can I pick ‘em?
So I spent the latter part of the night, encouraging him to “talk about it” and trying to console him because I think he was gonna cry, or maybe just really annoyed with me.
I’m not sure when I got home or how.
But I did, and some days latter, I had to admire my shit-tastic luck.
I am now in the category of women that are educated, self-supporting, a few years shy of 30, and single. The likelihood that I would get married by 30, and biological clock nonsense, doesn’t apply to me anymore.
I mean let’s face it, if I can’t drunk guy in a dive bar at something o’clock to go home with, then what are the chances of having a real relationship?
An old acquaintance of mine, has been seeing this douche, dude, for like 6 or 7 years off and on. He constantly tells her he wants a future with her and blah blah…but then they break up. Usually because he does some dumb shit, and then they do their own thing for awhile and circle back to each other through hooking up…blah blah blah.
That’s not a real relationship, and who would want that drama of being “the sure thing.” You know the girl that waits patiently for her man to finish sewing his wild oats.
For a time I hoped for a reconnection with the reporter, but I realize now that I’ve gone through a metamorphosis and realized that I’m not the average woman who would follow the same plain Jane path.
I’m in a category all my own that can be defined by my standards. And not centered around someone else.
We’ve all been rejected, including my acquaintance who has been rejected multiple times by the same person. You’d think she take the hint….but nonetheless, it took a hard rejection for me to understand what it means to live.
So I’ll go out again in another few weeks, and this time focus more on living and having a good time, than chasing tail.
Living Single:
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