A Bad Man in a Bad Place

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“When was the last time you were rejected?”

“I can’t remember. I don’t get rejected. I mean, I went on a date a few weeks ago and she emailed me later to tell me that she’d met someone. Does that count?”

“I think it does, yeah.”

“Well ok, then I got rejected a few weeks ago. She wants to set me up with one of her friends, though.”

“Oh. I don’t know if it counts then.” My classmate and I had been discussing the fact that I’m in a place where just finding, meeting, and sleeping with women no longer really appeals to me. I’m getting older and I’m looking for one woman to settle down with. Or, as I’ve been known to joke with Lex, two. “Maybe you ought to try to get rejected more? Try a little harder? Stop going after the low hanging fruit?”

I protested a bit - I don’t know that there is any “try harder” in my life, I don’t know what my limits are. It’s not like there’s a scale that you can put women on and say “oh, she’s a 9, she’s going to be tougher than that 7″ or anything. I mean that seriously - there are so many moving pieces as to how two people fit together that it’s very hard to say anything specific about any one before we’ve had a chance to talk. And hitting on women just because they’re totally beautiful is shallow and pedantic. Even I am not that shallow. And it’s not like beauty is a barometer of sanity, or kindness, or appropriateness for a particular person.

But I’ve got this in mind again, clearly not the first time that I’ve been told I need to work on getting rejected more. Chet’s told me the same thing over and over and I rarely listen to him on that issue. I suppose it’s time to start.

The rejection club rides again. Anyone else want to join and be a member? Do you think I should go trying to get rejected to see what my boundaries are? This one has me a bit at sea..

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