**We'll start with the rejection:**

She was a tall slender native with long black hair down past her ass, a skinny body and for reasons unbeknownst to me, after sitting far enough away making conversation awkward, she got up, walked directly towards me and took up a chair *6ft apart.*

We locked eyes, I could tell she was bitchy but her headphones caught my attention, they were metallic. Actually they were metal. Turns out they weren't headphones at all but a single earing, running ear to ear that hung down to her chest. *That's probably the most interesting earing I've ever seen.* is essentially what I told her. She rolled her eyes at me.

It burned, I felt heat under my collar. *What the hell was I going to do?* Presumably we were going to be seated next to each other for another thirty minutes. Seconds later the heat resided. I thought to myself, *what type of uncivilized swine has the audacity to not even thank a stranger when gifted a genuine compliment.*

I'd shot my shot and could go back to my book knowing **I had tried.**

**Regrets:**

It was hard not to notice her the moment she walked in; blue hair down to the middle of her back, a beautiful mess. Titties large enough you just wanted to push them to the side, bury your head in-between, letting them clap shut on your face in hopes you get a black eye. She had an hour glass figure and an ass that *looked* like she squatted heavy.

We locked eyes. Again, another woman that opted to sit directly across from me. *How's your night going sweet heart?* She giggled and explained it's been a terrible one. She'd blacked out last night partying, woke up in the hospital. We got to shooting the shit. She didn't need to tell me, I already knew but they always have to mention it. *Can you believe he'd fuck a fat bitch when he has this **bomb ass stripper pussy** at home?* She was talking about her baby daddy cheating on her with the old, fat landlord.

Not long after that comment, this lovely specimen invited me back to her place for McDonalds of all foods. Politely I declined. Drug addiction was on her face and I put that lifestyle 2000 miles behind me. Those tits came from a boob job, that ass and hour glass figure came from plastic surgery. Not hard work.

The Native happened a few hours ago and she'll soon escape my memory. Susan the Stripper happened weeks ago and she's still on my mind. Twenty year old me is pissed because despite all her red flags, I still wanted to hit it. Strippers are always a great fuck. The regret from passing up Susan's *bomb ass pussy* might linger the rest of my life.

The sting of rejection is momentary and fleeting. Seconds, minutes hours and it's gone. The regret of a poor decision might last a few weeks. Eventually you get over it but the regrets that come from *what could have been?* They have the potential to haunt till death do us part.