The Easy Let Down

I understand that everyone gets rejected now and again. Hey, I’ve had to do it myself. But when it comes to the rejection, there’s a right way and a wrong way to do things. Ladies, please take note of the following story, because in this cautionary tail, everything goes wrong that possibly could go wrong.

I was at a party a few years ago, when a kid that I knew came in and introduced me to his cousin. We all chatted for a while, and I eyed the cousin like a starving man looks at a roast. She was visiting from Iceland and was pretty much the reason that men continue to travel north: tall, thin, blond, and busty.

I decided to bide my time and make a play at the end of the night. Around two in the morning, I head over and we start talking for real. I make her laugh, we talk about her plans in the states, and we talk about her home; it’s a very chill vibe. I go in for the kiss and physicality went from there. A good time was had by all. ‘Nuff said.

The next morning a bunch of us all went out to breakfast. I bought her waffles. She gave me her number and said, “I’m going to be out of town until Thursday, why don’t you call me then?”

So Thursday night I call her up. I said, “How was your trip to Long Island?”
She said, “I’ve got to go. Maybe I’ll call sometime.” Click.

I didn’t even get a chance to get through the small talk. It was just raw.

OK, I don’t mind being used for a one night stand. In fact, I sometimes wish it happened more often. But that is just too cold for words. If you didn’t want to hang out, why didn’t you say something after breakfast? Let me down easy then and I wouldn’t have bugged you. But no! She had to go hardcore, evil rejection on me. In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to get carried away with these sorts of things.

So, the following weekend, extremely drunk, I called her up to yell at her:

“What is wrong with you? You couldn’t have let me down easy? You’re cold as ice! Do you even have a soul?”

When she hung up, I got a friend to drive me over there. It’s not as bad as it sounds.

1. I knew the cousin with whom she was staying, and he agreed I should give her a hard time.
2. I’m not the violent type and had no intention of getting out of hand.

When I arrived and the cousin let me and I proceeded to berate her on common courtesy (ignoring the fact that it was 1:30 in the morning, I was drunk, unannounced, and generally shattering every existing rule of etiquette). The cousin and my friend were laughing hysterically as I continued to chew her out for another ten minutes or so.

Finally, when I had gotten it all out of my system, she apologized and we all agreed to have a “bury the hatchet drink.” So I relaxed, and we were all sipping vodka like civilized adults, when she said, “Listen, I feel really bad about everything. I thought things might have gotten weird, since I’m leaving the country in another two weeks. Let me give you my email address.”

So she scribbled it out on a piece of paper. I stared at the paper for a moment and said, “Yeah, I’ve got to go. Maybe I’ll email you sometime.” RIP.