Part II
For some reason, I’ve been experiencing a run of bad luck lately. I was kicked off the track team for a BS reason, I’m plateauing in the weight room, and I’m experiencing a lot more rejection. The last is partially because I’ve intentionally gone out to raise my near-zero rejection rate which was caused by only closing girls who were obviously, blatantly interested. But even some girls who I had thought for sure would be good for at least a decent make-out session have turned me down for dates. Not that I cared overly much; my old immunity to rejection came back quickly.
I got turned down twice for dates to my school’s Winterball (formal dance) before a female friend offered to hook me up me up with her friend from another town. We exchanged pictures, and we both liked how each other looked so we agreed to go together and then sleep over our friend’s house together, whose parents weren’t home. She was good-looking but not stunningly beautiful, I’d give her a 7.
And here is where I made my first mistake. Figuring it would be too much of a pain for her to drive about 20 miles to my town and back to give the money for the ticket to me, I paid the $15 for her. This is from somebody who knows much better than to supplicate to a girl by buying her stuff like this.
We talk a few times on the phone before the dance, and she seems to be interested. I pick her up, and she smiles when she sees me and is very outgoing and flirty. The conversation on the drive over there is playful and lively. I was looking forward to a night of fun with this girl.
I introduce her to my friends at the dance. I have craploads of friends, so it was good social proof. Not only that, but another girl literally grabs my ass then jumps on my back. We get on the dance floor; I’m not a great dancer, but I can hold my own. Right away, she’s grinding her ass into me and rubbing her crotch on my leg. She goes to the bathroom a few times with our friend, and whispers a few things to her, but I didn’t see anything unusual.
So I never saw it coming. She pulls me out into the hall, and says:
“Well I don’t really know how to tell you this, but I’m just not interested in you”. I’m experienced enough with girls that even behavior this flaky didn’t surprise me, although it hurt. I told her that was fine, and that I would go dance with someone else. I kept on a mask of indifference, but underneath, it hurt.
Then she walked away. This was the critical moment of the night. I’d just been ditched by my date twenty minutes into the dance, and everybody knew about it. Me, the one who attracts girls left and right had just been played for a fool, and scammed out of $15, and everybody knew about it. A part of me wanted to sit in a stall in the bathroom for the remaining three hours of the dance and brood over my misfortune.
And whether you are an inexperienced AFC or a hardened DJ, you will undoubtedly find yourself in a similar position one day, where a girl fvcks you over so badly you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. You will feel like shi1t, you will be angry, you will question your attractiveness. You will feel like withdrawing from everything so you can’t get hurt again.
But that’s what a b1tch would do. And you are not a b1tch, you’re a real man can never be kept from succeeding. I thought this to myself, as I took a deep breath and thrust myself into a loud conversation a group of my friends were having. I felt my confidence coming back as we laughed an genuinely had a good time. By the time the next slow song came on, my confidence had returned. Unhesitatingly, I asked the first hot girl I saw to dance. We talked a little as we were dancing, and I got her number.
And although I still had a lingering sh1t feeling inside me, it was all uphill from there. I got back on the dance floor and met some more girls. I asked another girl to dance the next slow song. We talked most of the time we danced, she had a good personality and we enjoyed ourselves. It turns out she played the leading female role in the school play. Not only that, but she was indisputably hotter than the girl who had ditched me, I would give her an 8. I asked her for her number, and she said she something going for her already. As I turned to find another girl to dance with, I almost laughed at how immune I was to these polite little rejections.
I went up to a pair of blonde twins and asked them *both* to dance with me, and they said they would, although it turns out that later I was too occupied to dance with them.
A girl who I’d nexted pulled me onto the dance floor, and just as she was, the actress girl who I’d danced with before (the 8) grabbed my other arm.
HBActress: You know that thing I had going for me I told you about? Well, it’s been officially terminated.
Dan: Oh yeah?
HBNexted: [tugging at my arm] Come on Dan, let’s go
HBActress: My number’s 123-4567 [As I’m pulled onto the dance floor]
And this was the moment of my ultimate redemption. I’d gone from being a loser whose date ditched him, to having girls pulling at me from both arms and throwing their numbers at me.
I danced with another girl after this and got rejected, then HBActress found me again and we danced for the rest of the night. As the dance gets over, I pull out my cell phone, and get her number again. After she walks away and before I can store it in my phone, it runs of out battery.
But I can laugh at my misfortune at this point. Is this all that my bad luck can throw at me? Nobody had a pen I could use, but I remembered the number and wrote it down when I got to my car, without my erstwhile date.
On the way home, I hit a pothole in the road and blew out my right front tire. I’m being completely serious. Not only that, but one of my tire nuts needed a special key to get off, which I didn’t have. I ended up waiting three hours for AAA to come and tow my car.
But, although this also sucked, I knew I could get up tomorrow and not be dragged down by it. If I could handle this night, I could handle anything.
