A Reflection On Rejection; Nineteen Years Of Changing Gears ~ Pt. 2
PART TWO
Suddenly, out of nowhere, comes a voice from somewhere out in the crowd. Yes, the room was extremely crowded but at that point, my focus was straight ahead. It was as if time stood still, like one of those out of body experiences where you're floating above your body, watching yourself in slow motion, yet you're not really there. And the voice screamed "You two would make a perfect couple!"
Did I just hear that? Where did it come from and even more importantly, who said it? And even more important still, was it directed towards me? I mean, was it that obvious what was going on here or could somebody actually read my mind.
Searching the crowd, over to my left a woman stood up and repeated those same words yet again. And this time there was no mistaking the fact that they were indeed directed towards me. Or 'us' as it were. Sure enough, I knew the woman that spoke up in the crowd but I hadn't yet met her daughter. Yes, as it turned out, the object of my desire happened to be the daughter of the lady that was kind enough to offer her thoughts.
Thrown for a loop doesn't even begin to describe how I felt at that moment. It was as if the entire room, filled with what seemed like one hundred or more people, suddenly sat there in stunned silence, awaiting a response from someone. And judging by the spotlight melting the top of my head, that someone was more than likely me.
After all, I hadn't yet spoken a word to the young lady behind the counter and now here I was, face to face with her Mom and anything that had crossed my mind prior to this happening was surely lost in the ether. Not to mention any other rational thoughts that I might have had in my head at that time. I suddenly went into a sort of semi dysfunctional limbo (thank you wash tub full of free beer) and at this point I don't even remember what I managed to mumble but I'm sure it wasn't in any way clever, let alone coherent.
Turning back to the counter, I glanced at this Angel, whom I had so hoped to throw every bit of cleverness that I possessed at, and she looked just as confused and uncomfy as I was. Talk about dualing deer in the headlights, uncomfortable is putting it mildly. My cover had been blown. I'm sure she had no idea what I had been thinking for the last two hours. How I had been waiting for just the right time to make my move.
In fact I highly doubt either her or her Mom knew what I had in mind but thanks to her Moms interruption, I no longer had a clue what I originally had in mind either.
At that point I did all I could to get a few words out, an introduction of sorts and a "Maybe we can get together sometime tomorrow and get better acquainted" kinda thing. I could feel all the eyes in the room, especially the ones directly behind me waiting in line, all of them burning holes in the back of my neck as I waited for a response.
Similar to proposing to a woman in front of friends and family, I could tell she felt just as surprised as well as uncomfortable as I did. With her Mom shouting from across the room as she did, it threw us both off our games. We exchanged names and she agreed to get together for a chat the next day. And that was that.
As the heat stroke and hot flashes began to subside, yet feeling that all eyes in the room were continuing to bear down on me, I wobbled back to where I was originally sitting. Not without first stopping by the wash tub of course for another couple bottles of liquid courage. After all, it had gotten quite warm in that room in the last few minutes and I certainly needed to cool off quickly.
From that point on all I could think about was the next day, how wonderful it was going to be, all the things I was going to say to her and just how amazing this little get together was going to be. The car event itself, the main reason I was even there that weekend, had quickly taken a back seat to my future with the woman of my dreams.
I mean c'mon, it was pretty much a sealed deal at this point. Just a few remaining formalities and her signature on the dotted line and we were good to go for the rest of eternity. She had to be single if her Mom thought we'd make such a great couple (as she so freely announced to the rest of the room).
Not to mention that I was given the Seal Of Approval by her Mom. How good is that! Isn't that what every woman wants, her Moms approval of her choice for a man? Sounds perfect to me.
Next morning, while doing my best not to seem too excited, without much luck I might add, I managed to make contact with her. She was again volunteering during the show but had agreed we'd get together in the afternoon. Give her a chance to relax and we'd get to know each other better.
Minutes seemed like hours, hours passed like days but finally the afternoon had arrived and the event itself was officially over. Finally. We had agreed that she'd swing by my car and we'd take it from there. At that point, the clocks had not only stopped but they were moving backwards. And as afternoon began to turn into evening, still no sign of her. Reality was beginning to show itself all too plainly. She wasn't late. She simply had no plans of stopping by. Period.
Nope, just as fast as it started, it was over. As much as I wanted to think positively, to attempt to come up with some realistic reason for her not showing up, there was just no denying the fact that she wasn't interested in getting to know me.
To say I was bummed doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of how I was feeling. I was so looking forward to getting to know her. Her parents are great people and I was already imagining just how great Christmas dinner was going to be with the entire family gathered around. Ok, so I might have gotten a bit ahead of schedule but this woman had me thinkin' all kindsa crazy thinkin'.
The rest of the weekend was pretty much a blur and I really don't remember much from that afternoon on. My weekend had pretty much ended on that Saturday and with my chin glued to my chest, I basically just survived until I got to work on Monday morning.
I knew that at least once I got to work, I'd have my distaste for my job to help take my mind off of not only my birthday (which I never look forward to) but also what I considered to be a devastating rejection. It takes me a lot to get excited about a woman. At least excited enough to risk the heartbreak and possible rejection associated with getting to know a woman. So this was definitely a slap in the face. A slap I didn't take lightly.
Normally this entire fiasco would've begun to fade from my memory over those next few weeks but not this time. No, this connection (or lack thereof) was really bothering me. Sure, the rejection was devastating. How could it not be. Without a doubt she was my type and I had hoped to get to know her. But this time it was deeper than just another rejection. Much deeper.
I found myself really wondering why. Why did she want nothing to do with me. Was it just looks? Could it be as simple as my just not being her type? Or could it have had anything to do with the fact that I was hammered? Maybe her Moms seal of approval was the deal breaker. Possibly a combo of all the above? Only she would know for sure.
All of those possibilities were viable options as well as there likely being even more unknown possibilities to add to the mix. But if I were to break that list down, which of those, if any, can I do anything about? Can I hope to have any affect whatsoever on? In other words, how can I do everything possible in order to avoid a repeat performance of this disastrous nightmare.
Not much I can do to change my looks. As a famous ol' Sailor used to say, "I yam what I yam" and so there's only so much I can do there. Not her type? Again, not much I can do about that. Not to mention the fact that I refuse to fake who I am to please anybody else. That's a game I'm not about to play.
Therefore, besides the unknown unknowns, which are of course unknown to me, that leaves me with the fact that I was completely hammered when I attempted to introduce myself to her. Having to be honest with myself I have a feeling that even though I thought I was hiding it pretty well, I'm sure there were some people that knew damn well that I didn't slur my words and say stupid stuff 100% of the time. Maybe 95% but surely not 100% so there must be something goin' on, somethin' outta whack.
Ok then, after identifying possible room for a change, a way of bettering myself as well as my odds for attracting a woman of her caliber, how do I go about implementing this life altering change? It was at this point that I realized the odds were more in my favor that I could change my looks as opposed to my lifestyle. And changing my looks was next to impossible.
Yes, admittedly I was an alcoholic. A full blown alcoholic at that. Not some random, part time, weekends only Coors Light drinker. Oh no, not me. When I do ANYTHING in my life, I go at it 110% and in the case of my drinking, make it 120%. I don't do anything half ass, don't even think it's possible.
Which left me with an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Knowing damn well I'd already tried to quit drinking thousands of times before (with a success rate of zero), how could I ever make this time any different. How could I even begin to hope to make it happen, to stick with it? This wasn't like breaking up with a girlfriend, not even similar to a divorce (although I don't know that to be 100% accurate as I've never been married).
No, this was serious stuff. This was a complete lifestyle change. My entire life as I knew it, my entire existence was going to have to be seriously altered. Altered to the point that it was completely unrecognizable. To me or to anyone that ever knew me.
Which meant that I would likely lose all of my friends because as with all alcoholics (and Partiers in general), they tend to hang around others with a similar lifestyle. In fact, I was voted by my peers to be the least likely to ever be able to change my lifestyle, to stop indulging, and to get my shit together. Rather comforting, don't you think? Well, at least I was good at something, even if that something was getting hammered.
A Reflection On Rejection; Nineteen Years Of Changing Gears ~ Pt. 3