I’d been wanting to approach her for far too long.

She was standing, smoking a cigarette. “Hey your from…” we had a short exchange.  She said I had balls. Her cig was getting short, “hey lets we go get coffee.”, “I have a boyfriend”.

I emailed K and his email said, “Man the Fuck up.” I described the approach as “brutal” and “sucked”. He said…
“Dude, you’re in Halifax, a university town. The land of hormones and alcohol. If you’re going to tell me about a rejection it had better be some sort of epic story where a chick punched you in the balls in the middle of the cafeteria or where some girl puked on you during your attempt or something. A chick telling you that she has a boyfriend should feel like a commonplace everyday occurrence that you don’t even remember.”