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[Edited. Because I'm pathetic enough to reread some of my own writing.]

Dating Tips, Chapter 4: How to handle rejection with your ego intact.

Okay, so you've been dissed and dismissed. You're brushed off and bruised up. Your self-confidence is lower than Barry White's voice with a hangover. In short, you're feeling pretty stinkin'-awful; enough to crawl in bed and never change out of your pajamas ever again.

What do you do? Pop quiz: WHAT DO YOU DO?

The obvious knee-jerk reaction is to wilt under pressure and run to a monastery. But fellas, it ain't all bad.

First, you now have every reason to hang out with your single friends. The lot of you can do a weekly Friday night bar hop. I'm sure we all have standards when it comes to women. One man's Britney Spears is another's man's "Hit-Me Here" (points to privates). But maybe with a few drinks and donning on the proverbial beer glasses, you can get over your trepidation of the uglies, and at least get a number as a morale booster shot.

We're getting ahead of ourselves. I'm talking about dignity, not stupidity. Let's not rush into things.

The second advantage is this: you can definitely turn shame into pity. Scenario: The Girl of Your Dreams (GoYD) laughed so hard she actually snorted when you asked her out; then promptly told everyone she knew that you had the chutzpa to be so brazen. Now use that and get your buddy into buying a round or three. "Dude, she just made me feel like the biggest turd this side of a barn. Least you could do is help me douse these flames of shame and spring for a cold one." If he's any friend, he would.

What you really must do is learn to forget. Forget that the sight of her makes your stomach's caught in a giant venus flytrap. Forget that she smells as good as a five star restaurant to a homeless bum. Put all that out of your mind. Afterall, chances are that when you asked her out, she too said, "Forget it!". So listen to her sagely advise, you owe yourself at least that. Pretending it didn't happen is the key, kids. And if you can't? Drink. Nothing makes you forget like blacking out.

But you say: "Losir, how does one play down rejection at a club, with all your friends watching?"

I'm glad you asked. Let me set it up.

Say Joe Schmoe sashays across the dance floor with beer in one hand and pi�a colada in the other. His eyes and mind is locked onto GoYD. With a practiced flourish, he starts a non-confrontational, non-one worded answerable question, leading to a psuedo-sincere string of conversation with said target. It usually starts with "Hi."

Note "Hi." It's not pompous like "Hello". It's not too urban-hip like "What up, dawg." It's not retarded like "Wazzzzzzzzap." It doesn't sound so stalker-cum-serial killer-ish. It's friendly. It's easygoing. It's safe.

After a few minutes of jibber-jabber, he unfortunately mistakens politeness with interest, so he directly goes for the drink/dance/number/back rub question. Next thing he knows, the pi�a colada that was offered as a sacrifice of sorts end up getting unceremonously splashed back into his face. Remember, his friends are only a hop, skip and a step away. All are looking on in disbelieve and glee. What is our poor ol' Joe Schmoe suppose to do?

I'll tell you what you should do. Gently wipe off the excess alcohol, take a calming sip of your beer, walk back to your group of friends and confidently annouce: "Lesbian."

...Next chapter: Eating crow, the definitive recipe. posted by losir at 6:21 PM