Feel The Burn!!!!!

[irish1416]

Well folks, it seems that in recent weeks there have been a fair few people that have been having difficulty in their relationships, or even in establishing a relationship.

And, sadly, many such attempts lead to heartbreack, heartache, confusion, pain, and rejection.

This is not abnormal. It can, however, be very painful. But as always, there is light at the end of the tunnel. In time, we come to understand and learn from the heartache that we have endured. And sometimes, we can even get a good laugh out of it.

So why not share the experiences that we have had in getting burnt. We may just provide other members with the answers that they are seeking, and simultaneously enlighten ourselves just a little.

I'll start with one of my favorites from my life:

'Twas my sophmore year in college, and my dorm just so happened to be located right across the hallway from an absolutely smoking hot italian girl named Julie. This girl was so hot that I would be willing to bet that she could turn Elton John around. She had all the right curves, luscious lips, captivating eyes, and that perfect, olive-toned skin.

And, unbeknownst to me at the time, she also had a boyfriend.

We had a similar class schedule, so we would always see each other whenever we were leaving our returning to our rooms. Eventually we started to chat a little, we flirted a little, and we wound up getting along famously.

And so, one day, I decided that I would borrow my roommate's car and take her out for a night on the town. I knew exactly what I was going to do: take her to dinner to a charming hole-in-the-wall (but three-star rated) italian restaurant, take her for cruise around downtown Boston, and surprise with tickets to a Red Sox Game. You can imagine how excited I was about this.

The next day, I saw her sitting in the cafeteria with the usual bunch of guys and girls that she ate with. I walked right up to her and asked her out. It was then that I learned that she had a boyfriend, who just so happened to be 6' 4", 220 lbs, captain of the rugby team.....and in the seat right next to her. And on his left were to two of his teammates/buddies. It was not a good day to be irish.

Once they stood up and *ahem* politely *ahem* explained who they were and what they were about to do....well....let's just say that the quarter mile time back to my dorm would put to shame any Ferrari yet made.

Every time that she and her friends saw me after that, they simply giggled and invited me to join them in the cafeteria with the rest of the rugby team. Yeah. That sucked.

And so, having shared my sad story, let me now share with you the conclusions that I drew:

1) Never ask out a girl until you are damn sure she is single.

2) If you are going to ask out a girl with a boyfriend, make damn sure that that boyfriend (and his buddies) can't curb stomp you at will

And lastly,

3) Getting burnt sucks, and having it rubbed in sucks even more. So, suck it up, take it with all the pride and honor you can muster, and then run like hell.

Don't be afraid to take a chance. Yes, you may get burnt, and you may get the crap kicked out of you, but you never know unless you try. And even if you lose, learn from it and laugh.

[wevodau]

Great advice. I wish I would have heard some of that a few years ago when I needed it.

[bester]

Don't be afraid to take a chance. Yes, you may get burnt, and you may get the crap kicked out of you, but you never know unless you try. And even if you lose, learn from it and laugh.

Irish your last line lead us to my motto: Rejection than regret!!!

Take the change you have nothing to lose, and if you have competitors, hurry be the first to ask her!!!

[irish1416]

Okay, come now, ladies and gentlemen.

I refuse to believe that I am the only one with an anecdotal story about being rejected. You guys must have a few good ones up your sleeve, so please share! The point of this thread was so that we could read each other's experiences, and not feel so bad when it happens in our lives.

I'll even contribute one more, this one being the story of my first rejection EVER:

Once upon a time, there was a brighter, more youthful Irish that walked this earth. At the tender age of 13, I was indeed young.

And I was right in the middle of the wonders of puberty.

I had just begun to notice girls. "What are these strange creatures?" I asked myself. In all of my worldy knowledge, I decided that the best way to answer this question was to get to know one of these creatures, and so be able to unravel their many mysteries first hand.

There just so happened to be this pretty little blonde girl that sat next to me in my English class by the name of Alison. She was of typical nordic descent, being tall, slender, and blue-eyed. Indeed, she was just beginning to show those modeleque characteristics that are so prized for ads by make-up companies, clothing companies, etc. A perfect specimen to learn about.

And so there we were on a cool December morning, sitting in class listening to the typically inane babbling of our English teacher, and the usual middle school chatter and note passing struck up once more.

I had spent weeks prepping myself for this moment. I studied the floorplan of the classroom. I determined the route that she was most likely to take to get to her desk on any given day. I calculated how long it took her to arrive in English after being released from her previous class. I estimated how long it would take her to read the note that I had written. In short, I was prepared. I had done my homework.

At last, it was time to put that preparation to use. My moment of glory had at last arrived.

I got to class a few minutes early that day, just so that I could place the note asking her out on her desk before she arrived. Once I had done so, I sat and twiddled my thumbs as I counted each and every last second until she arrived. 9:05:33 am. She was right on time. She said hello to me, put her stuff down, and took a seat. She saw the note in front of her, opened it, and began to read. It took her about 45 seconds to read, about as long as I expected. Just as she finished it, she blushed a little, smiled, looked at me, and opened her mouth as if to speak.

Sadly, however, I was never to know what it was that she was about to say.

For it was at precisely this moment that I redefined the modern notion of flatulence.

I farted. And it wasn't one of those little quiet ones, or one of those wimpy little "poot" ones. No, sir, this was a full-bodied explosion of a fart. I have no doubt that teachers two classrooms down were wondering what the hell had happened. I am told that it was quite the stinker too, but as my olfactory sensors are notoriously weak, I have no evidence to corroborate any such conclusion.

The events immediately following my display of flatulence are a little hazy, as everything happened so fast. For the most part, I have vague impressions of the entire class turning around and looking at me, the teacher making some exclamation, and promptly finding myself the target of ridicule for many months to come.

This, however, I remember most clearly:

As soon as I farted, that sweet blush and beautiful smile vanished. She gave me this strange look that seemed to have been a blend of disbelief, nauseation, and disgust. Once she had come to her senses, she promptly dropped my note on the ground, picked up her stuff and moved to the side of the classroom closest to the door.

And so my first endeavor into the world of relationships and women had come to a swift end. It would be some years before we even spoke again, but when we did, we reminisced about the events of that fateful day, laughed, thanked each other for providing each other with our first childhood crushes, and then went our seperate ways.

It would be a long time before I was finally allowed to live that one down, but in the end I learned a few valuable lessons:

1) Never eat a left over bean and cheese burrito for breakfast.

2) .........

Okay I lied, I learned only one valuable lesson.

In the end, though, I realized that the consequences of our actions do not define us, but rather it is the manner in which we accpet those consequences that gives us definition. Yes, that sucked, but accepting it for what it was and showing that I had nothing to hide, people began to laugh not at me, but at the situation itself. And they came to be more accepting of me as they, too, had such experiences.

When it comes down to it, no matter how bad you may think your situation is, just remember one thing: This, too, shall pass. And those few who do condemn you at the time will promptly reverse their judgement when they find themselves in a similar situation.

So, go out, be daring, be avant garde, and have some fun. Even if you get burnt, it, too, shall pass, and you will be all the wiser for it.

[irish1416]

Okay, one last attempt to jumpstart this thread.

If no one responds, then so be it. At least I gave it the old scout try. If, on the other hand, you found any of my experiences humorous, then pay it forward and contribute one of your own.

This is another story about my early ventures into the world of girls:

It had been two years since the flatulence story (see my above post for that story). There was this very pretty little asian girl named Melanie. She was third generation American, and had a very americanized family. She was hot, she was sweet, and she must have had about 20 I.Q. points on me. I figured that might make a pretty good place to start.

Of course, she, too, had heard about the flatulence story, and that is how we wound up getting to know each other. She laughed at me at first, but then, for whatever reason, she decided she wanted to know my side of the story and what it was like to be me at the time.

Having long since lost any sense of pride and dignity, I figured that I had nothing to lose. If I was lucky I might just make a new friend. And if I wasn't so fortunate, well, I would be in no worse a place than I already was. So I told her the story. Far from teasing me, she thought that it was hilarious, and came to realize that I was not the social abhorrence that many people made me out to be.

So we became friends, and we began to talk, and eventually eat lunch together. I thought about asking her out, but was still a little stung about the first time that I tried asking a girl out. Finally, I figured enough was enough. I was going to pick up the phone, call her, and ask her out.

Well, I picked up the phone and called her house. But, as it turns out, it was not Melanie that I was to ask out that evening.

When we are kids, we naturally make foolish assumptions, especially when we are nervous. Mine was assuming that she was the only one in her family that picked up the phone. As soon as I heard that someone had picked up the phone, I assumed that I was talking to Melanie. And so, before the person on the other end ever got the chance to say hello, I poured out my feelings for her told her how sweet I thought she was, how hot I thought she was, etc. And then I asked her out.

When I had at last finished my inane babblings, the person on the other end promptly said in a deep, dignified, masculine voice: "Melanie is not home. Never call her again." and hang up on me. It was at that point that it dawned upon me that I had asked out Melanie's father.

I had poured out everything that I felt about her, including things that I most certainly would never have said in front of her parents or mine, to her father. Oops.

When she came to school the next day, her eyes were a little swollen from crying. It seems that her father had a good long chat with her after I had called. We didn't talk again for a while, but eventually we were able to look back upon the incident and laugh. I never did wind up going over to her house when she invited me over, though. I was always a little afraid of what her father might do to me if he ever found out who I was....

And so my second pubescent attempt at a relationship came to another awkward end.

It was a difficult age to be, and one in which dozens upon dozens of new worlds and new avenues of exploration and experience were opening before my very eyes. And rather than step back from that threshold in hesitation, I leaped into it.

As you have no doubt gathered, it was a rough landing. But it was fun, it was awkward, and it was downright hilarious in retrospect. I learned much from my many dismal failures, and much from from my occasional succeses. As a result, I grew up, matured, and learned a little more quickly than many of my peers, and was light years ahead by the time I got on my feet.

All because I took a chance. Yes, I know, mother always told you not to gamble, but sometimes the only way to get ahead in life is to take a few chances. Just becareful what chances you take.

[Darren0901]

Here is my most recent one, it goes back a few years when my current g/f and I were on a "break".... [we were split for 1.5 years ]

One night working at the club I started talking to one of the bar tenders. She normally worked on the 4th floor and I work the front door, so we usually did not get a chance to chit chat.

So I get to talking to her over the next few weeks and we start going out for a few drinks. She says she is nearing the end of a relationship she says and I had just ended one.

Over the next six months we are dating, having fun, etc. Being a somewhat jaded guy since my divorce, I put a few questions out as to what was the real deal with her, I find out that she was not only seeing her "ex" the whole time, but was also seeing another person. She was so cute / fun that I did not think she was really capible of such deception



It was very fun while it lasted, got me out of the spin I was in

Oh well, another piece of jade in the jaded pile eh?

[joker13]

THe worst is when you are after a girl and the only thing she wants to do is do your buddys. I had this happen to me twice in highshcool. My friends would ask me if it was cool and to not be an asshole i would say yes but damn that hurts.