Rejection Hotline

[escortsxxx]

Rejection Hotline
There was a time — before ghosting had a name and dating apps had algorithms — when a man asked for a number with a confident smile and a cocktail in hand…


And sometimes, she handed it over with a wink.
Only later, when the lights were low and the phone was out, he'd hear:

“The person who gave you this number does not want to talk to you.”
Rejection Hotline, baby. Cold as ice. Smooth as silk.

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These lines were the original digital decoys — classy, clever, and utterly humiliating in the best way.


So here’s the flirt:
Models, muses, nightlife legends — have you ever given one of these numbers?
Or fellas — ever received one and didn’t realize it till it was too late?


Be honest:
Where were you?
What era?
Was it a dive bar, a red carpet, a rooftop in LA, or just a night you wish you could remember better?


Whether you rocked a 416, a 310, or something more mysterious, let’s bring back the glamour of playful rejection. No hard feelings — just hard lessons.


Drop your tales, tag your favorite smooth operators, or confess your cleverest dodge.
We won’t judge — we’ll toast you.

--Mr. Escort awaits your reflections

 

[SinnamonFairbanks]

I dont remember these but some clever lady gives out my number to people she's not interested in at the bars she goes to

Its annoying but funny.

 

[xix]

Rejection hotline - Wikipedia

en.wikipedia.org

The Rejection Hotline® (605–477–3018) — new 2024 numbers!

“Hello, this is NOT the person you were trying to call! You’ve reached THE REJECTION HOTLINE® … ”

medium.com

The Rejection Hotline® (605–477–3018) — new 2024 numbers!

Can’t say no? Let a number do it for you

He presses himself next to you at the bar, ordering a round of Jager shots. “One for you, girlie?” he says, ignoring your boyfriend a few steps away. Eyes glued to your chest, he breathes in loudly through his mouth and asks The Question.

www.thestar.com

Can’t say no? Let a number do it for you
He presses himself next to you at the bar, ordering a round of Jager shots. “One for you, girlie?” he says, ignoring your boyfriend a few steps away. Eyes glued to your chest, he breathes in loudly through his mouth and asks The Question.
Aug. 4, 2007
1 min read
Save




By Sarah Barmak Special to the Star

He presses himself next to you at the bar, ordering a round of Jager shots. “One for you, girlie?” he says, ignoring your boyfriend a few steps away. Eyes glued to your chest, he breathes in loudly through his mouth and asks The Question.
Enter the rejection line. Invented with the ever-evolving needs of the speed-dating social butterfly in mind, a special phone number – (647) 476-4910 – can be handed out to persistent suitors who just won’t take no for an answer.
It looks like an ordinary cellphone number, but if dialled, it plays a pre-recorded message that will, in no uncertain terms, reject the caller.

“Hello! This is not the person you were trying to call. Unfortunately, the person who gave you this rejection hotline number did not want you to have their real number..” and so on in increasingly caustic terms. The hotline seems to fall into an ever-widening category of coward-friendly media that allow you to say what you really think while screening yourself from potential fallout. These include passive-aggressive, pulchritude-rating site HotOrNot.com, as well as distinctly more aggressive-aggressive sites like DontDateHimGirl.com.
Started by a stand-up comic and a media student, the rejection line joins Punk’d and Jackass in the sense that it’s a gag – if a nasty one.
But before it was a joke, it was a social experiment. One of the co-creators of the original hotline in New York City – it has spawned copycats around the continent – was media student Jonah Peretti, according to news site Alternet.com.
One of the subjects that fascinated him was meme theory, the concept of self-replicating cultural information made famous by Richard Dawkins in his book The Selfish Gene. Peretti set out to create one.
After setting up the first rejection line with his comedian sister Chelsea and recording a few message options (“Press 1 to hear our comfort specialist; press 2 to hear a sad poem; press 3 to cling to unrealistic hope”), he told a few close friends about it. Like any good meme, it took on a life of its own. It wasn’t long before people were using it not as a joke, but as a relationship tool. One man used it to break up with his girlfriend of six months.
The line is another example of our increasingly automated social transactions. As virtual social circles explode, our capacity to genuinely interact with each buddy, acquaintance, co-worker, date and long-lost, Grade 1 pal is shrinking.
Facebook status-updating, instant messaging and emoticons are all infinitely repeatable ways of maintaining contact with others while minimizing the amount of energy we spend on our relationships.
If the concept catches on in a bigger way, what kind of variations on this theme can we expect to see?