By: Jimmy Jacks
Rejection is a part of any man’s pursuit of love or lust in college. Even the smoothest, most polished male has an off night. I am far from that male. Thus, I have experienced awkward attempts in my time as an undergrad trying to impress members of the opposite sex.
This is one of those stories, and probably the most entertaining of them, unless you are me. I hope that my self-deprecation for the sake of humor can mask the humiliation incurred by my absolute dumpster fire of flirtation.
So here I was, indulging in the all-important pregame for yet another night on Pittsburgh’s Southside. I was at a friend’s house just up the hill from the main strip on East Carson Street. There were probably around 30 of us at this house, and I knew about five of them. One was my roommate, Pat. We promptly headed to the second floor and began playing Flip Cup. I looked at my opponent and noticed that she was incredibly cute, albeit way out of my league. Color me an optimist, though, because I was going for it.
I started with some subtle trash talk, questioning if she could hang with Pat and I’s team. Sure enough, she hung well, but my side still came out on top. Between rounds, she would banter back with some trash talk of her own, all with a smile on her face. I could tell that I had the green light to push onward with small talk.
Once our game of flip cup ended, we walked to one side of the room and started to get into a real conversation. She explained that she was a cheerleader at a university up north, and that she had the same major and several hobbies as I do. I took my second shot, asking for her number. Without any hesitation or awkwardness, she obliged.
This fortuitous exchange made me flush with confidence. Little did I know that my luck was about to run out, and fast.
You see, the problem with exceeding my own expectations so quickly was that I thought I was untouchable. To relate it to an analogy, it’s like beating the dealer five straight times in blackjack. Conventional wisdom says your luck is going to bottom out quickly, but the high that you’re feeling blinds you to that fact. Well, I was about to go home broke as a joke, that’s for sure.
We both went upstairs to grab a drink. While she went over to talk to her girlfriends, I turned to Pat. “Should I ask her to go in that room and make out?” I said. That was what my slightly-more-than-buzzed brain could come up with, and I laugh at myself before cringing every time that I recall it. Pat, being the agreeable and laid-back friend that he is, told me to go for it.
I waited a few moments before she came back over, and then I fatefully produced the word-vomit that would end any shot I had at getting to know this young woman.
“Hey, you want to go in that room and make out?” I said. Immediately, I could see that she was puzzled, not exactly sure how to respond. A few seconds passed, which I’m sure felt much longer at the time. She politely but firmly responded no, and she retreated to her friends to get pizza.
And with that, down in flames went all the competitive and conversational fun from earlier in the evening. I wish I could blame the alcohol for that epic failure, but that would be too convenient.
That’s my best rejection story, just one of many in the world. Is yours better? Submit it below and maybe yours will be featured on the site.