I thoroughly enjoyed Roosh’s post about him getting brutally rejected on the subway, and it inspired me to write my own rejection story. I LOVE getting rejected, I think it’s a hoot, and at the end I’ll tell you why…
I love strippers
Okay, so I moved back to my hometown a couple of months ago, and within the first couple of days of moving back I had to hit the cell phone store to get the number changed on my cell phone. I bopped on down to the AT&T store at around 10:00 am…no shave, no shower, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. I think I had even been drinking the night before. Obviously, I was in no state to impress anyone.
At the AT&T store I was the only customer in the joint and there were probably half a dozen employees standing around, guys and girls. I gave my phone to the girl at the counter and she told me it would take about 10 minutes to get everything squared away. No problem, I sat down and chilled.
In walked a 10. Holy fuck. Young, turbo hottie, long blonde hair, big rack, sublime ass, lovely face, dressed cute. She was like a ray of sunshine perkily sauntering into a cave. My heartrate spiked. (To be perfectly honest, she had a stripper’s body and the stripper look about her and so I assumed she was a stripper. I wasn’t far off.) She handed over her phone and got it serviced and then she wandered around to look at phones. Her service was only going to take a minute or two.
I was in zero condition to make a move, but I knew I was going to, because that’s what I do. These are opportunities and sitting still is far worse than any type of possible (probable) rejection. I considered simply walking up to her in the store and saying hello, but I opted not to because there were so many employees within earshot.
She got her phone back. She opened the door and walked outside. At that exact instant, the AT&T rep asked me something about my phone. I ignored her. Heart like a machine gun, I followed the hottie outside. Here’s the exchange:
Lance: “Excuse me, but you look really familiar, did we go to high school together?”
Hottie: “No, I’m from out of state. I work downtown though, so you probably saw me there.” She did a three-quarter turn towards me, then turned back and kept walking towards her car after delivering her response.
Lance: “Cool. What places?” [at this point, when she said she worked downtown, I knew she worked in the bars] Still retreating.
Hottie: “Chillers. Big Belly’s.” She put on her sunglasses and unlocked her car.
Lance: “Oh, yeah. I go to Chiller’s, I think saw you tending bar there.”
Hottie: “Actually, I’m one of the beer tub girls.” At this point, she was climbing into her car and I was well and truly blown out. Unless I was Brad P., there was absolutely nothing I could do.
Lance: “Well, you take care.”
The hottie drove off. I walked back into the AT&T store and every one of those employees stared. They all had seen the exchange go down through the store windows. Not one of them smirked or made a comment. I waited an additional five minutes, got my phone, and left. On the way home, I texted a couple of my guy friends and told them that I just got my first blowout after moving back to town. Their response: “Awesome!”
My heartrate during and after that encounter was totally pegged, and that little interaction was the best rush I had that day. It was awesome. I will tell you, I love doing approaches, and I enjoy the process of getting rejected nearly as much as I do making connections. It amuses me, and I always come away from it feeling good because I took a shot and because it’s super ballsy. I’ve probably been rejected like this 100 times. After awhile, you realize rejection is nothing, that you’re still a cool guy at the end of the day, and that you define your own experiences.
If this post amused you because Lance got rejected, you might also enjoy: