...don't tell me no, don't tell me no, don't tell me, I don't want to know....
I don't take rejection well.
Why should I have to? That Girl expects (and rightly so; have you SEEN her?) that any wish she may have now or at any time in the future will be immediately and enthusiastically met with YES.
I expect Yes pretty often myself, with mumble mumble more years of mileage on me. And often get it.
But not this time, oh, no.
So if anyone would like to alleviate my yawing sense of worthlessness, please go and grace with some of your iron-rich hemoglobin your nearest Red Cross Donor Center.
The standard is thirty-eight whatevers. I came in at thirty five, and walked away as crushed as the bag of cookies the sympathetic volunteers apologetically pressed upon me.
Do let me know if you donate.