If I had a nickel for every time I was politely rejected by a woman, I'd have quite a few nickels, let me tell you. The lady always tells me how great I am, but just not great for her. It's a nicer version of this:
"Todd, you are a really great guy and any woman would be lucky to have you. Except for me. Me, I'd rather drink a gallon of dumpster run-off and pierce my labia with a dirty toothpick than be in the same room as you. All of the other girls on Earth would be crazy not to want to go out with you, even though I'd sooner fill my uterus with liquid nitrogen and hit it with a sledgehammer before I'd even talk to you on the phone."
I recently had a nice young lady tell me she didn't want to see me, talk to me on the phone, or IM me, but "If I run into you at a bar, I hope you say 'hi'." I'm glad she isn't going to let her overwhelming distain for my very being get in the way of social niceties. I think Halmark should start a line of "If We Happen to Randomly Meet in Public Let's Acknowledge Each Other's Existences" greeting cards in her honor.
But I'm not mad at her, or any of the girls who've rejected me, because when I think about it, they MADE THE RIGHT DECISION. Really, I'm no bargain. I'm broke, overweight, not particularly handsome, and I'm a lousy dancer. Also, even though when sober I possess a fiercely keen bullshit detector, I have a bad habit of getting drunk and believing what I'm told. That one gets me every time.
This was going to be a much angrier post but I just can't manage to stay mad. I guess if I didn't have such a massive case of self-loathing it would bother me more when other people treat me like shit.