Introduction:
Just like anybody, I have been rejected for several different reasons. One boy said I was too normal. One boy said I was too crazy. I'm sure somebody along the lines rejected me because I was too fat, and another because my ass wasn't big enough... and the lesson we learn from all this is that you have to be good enough for yourself and no one else, because the one thing that holds true, throughout acceptance and rejection, is that nobody wants to be with somebody who doesn't want to be with herself. You know. You've been there. Go self-esteem!
This is a story of a very particular type of rejection, not one that is unheard of, but it is rare: the Neverending Rejection. Voila:
*Note: This ended up being a lot longer than I originally anticipated, so I'm breaking it into a few entries.**
Karaoke night on Thursday was a fucking eight-hour long party of ridiculousness rivaled only by the last time we had a karaoke night several months ago. There is a reason the M3rcury L0unge karaoke night is a once-in-a-blue-moon event, and that is because the owner of the bar is awesome in several ways, but mostly because she runs the bar to have a good time, not to make money. Regular karaoke nights would be a major boon to the bar's popularity, but Dawn appreciates that a lot of the appeal to her bar are those slow nights during which you bond with the bartender. It's like what happened to the Wildcat, or so I've been told--it was a hip place to hang out for those in the know, and then the owners decided to make money. D@wn is many things; a sell-out she is not.
That being said, karaoke nights are always a fucking blast but would get disgustingly tedious if they happened more than once every six weeks. Chuck F----- was the MC, it was packed all night, Suzanne got wasted and threw up and had to leave early, Samantha and I decided to have a sleepover at the bar with whoever else wanted to hang out, and I made $450. Also, Mark was there.