Not long ago, I was rejected. He was tall, bearded, in a flannel, worked for the government, as they do in DC, and probably a bit younger.
Anyway, I met him and his friends at this bar. And after a genius phone-number finagle, I asked him out a couple weeks later. Before you get all wide-eyed and “Damn girl, you BOLD” on me, know that I texted him to ask him out. Nonetheless. He was game. We had a day. And a place. A few days pass. It’s two days before the date and I text for a time. A day goes by. Uh oh. The text comes mid Monday:
I’m sorry, I have to cancel. Things have changed for me. It’s a bummer bc u r hot.
Best rejection I ever got. I think the rejection actually was better than the date could have been because clearly he is gay or got back together with a girlfriend. I’m so down with the rejection, I text back:
That is a bummer. If things change again, give me a call.
Damn, I’m cool. Did you just feel that breeze of how cool I am?