Trilogy of Rejections

There is a time in nearly every woman’s life where she feels unstoppably hot. For most of us, this time is typically preceded by about six shots of Patron and the first three chords of Beyonce’s Crazy in Love. It happens. And it’s blissful. I was lucky enough to experience two full months, where I could talk to any boy in the room, flirt with the bartenders, and dance my less than coordinated heart out, all while wearing a sweatshirt. Having just come back from Spain, where being an American girl was equivalent to walking around with a “Do Me” sign stapled to your back, I was used to male attention and welcomed it with open arms.

Of course, as with all good things, this period of unshakable sexiness had to end. While the time spent in Spain had shown me that, as a woman, I deserved to be valued and appreciated, within that first month back my skepticism of the male breed and need for tequila came roaring back as a result of what I refer to as the “Trilogy of Rejections.” (I’m in no way suggesting that every woman shouldn’t be confident because you are all gorgeous, talented, intelligent, and yes, every guy in the room should be swooning. Yet, in my own life, a little liquid courage tends to help.)

The first of the series occurred on New Years. Half of my friends were still twenty, while I, adding fuel to the ego-fire, was twenty-one. Given that I would have been patronizing the one bar in my home town by myself, I agreed to go to a house party of an acquaintance from high school. She and her friends were “theater people.” I always had a thing for the drama boys and was looking forward to checking some old high school crushes off the list.

And there he was: tall, still lanky, a year older, and the unrequited love of my junior year. So, I walked over, prepared to amaze him with my best I’ve just been abroad and look how worldly I’ve become persona, my come hither smile and of course, the goofy laugh I’d retained from those high school years. Alas, I did not wow, nor did I, woo him. Within two minutes of me saddling up next to this fellow, his eyes were darting all over the room, looking for any imaginable excuse to get away.