A Spark of Rejection
I’ve developed an affinity for collecting matchbooks.
Last year I turned 23, so to celebrate my birthday I made a trip to Austin to visit my alma mater and see friends also in town the same weekend for Convergent alumni weekend. It was my first time visiting Austin since I graduated, so in addition to birthday festivities, I spent a lot of time visiting old college hubs and up-and-coming new spots.
One such place was Palomino Coffee.
This place just screams Texas, and I’m absolutely here for it.🌵
Upon ordering, I saw they had a bowl full of matchbooks that were just as aesthetically pleasing as the coffee shop itself. I asked if I could take one and, well, the rest is history.
I now have 20+ matchbooks in my collection and have expanded to collect pens here and there too! It’s been a fun hobby as I frequent restaurants all the time with friends, so each matchbook of mine is associated with a distinct memory of the time I had there. Once I’m content with the collection, I aspire to cast them in resin and make a shadow box.
You might be surprised that some places give out matchbooks. It was originally started by restaurants and hotels in the ‘50s, when smoking was quite popular. Along with the cheque, these places would hand out a branded matchbook for you to light your cigarette, thus sharing a keepsake that advertises their restaurant/hotel to future customers. Nowadays it’s more of a vestigial tradition, not many people know about it.
So naturally, at some places when I ask for a matchbook, they look at me like I’m a lunatic.😐
I’ve lived in New York for over a year now; it’s exposed me to and prepared me for many different situations. Seeking rejection in this form is not one of them though. I’ve had about a 30% success rate when asking for matchbooks, so naturally when I ask the staff I’m mostly expecting to be turned away. The first few times I asked for a matchbook, I rehearsed my request numerous times in my head and could barely make eye contact with the person.
Strange, isn’t it? You’d think I’m asking them for their hand in marriage the way I was freaking out.
I’m not alone in feeling this way though. One of my favorite TED Talks, Rejection Is Your Resume, describes this phenomenon well. In his speech, Daron Roberts describes something he calls the 'Ikea effect,' essentially a sunk cost fallacy that inhibits you from making a change because you've invested so much time building your status quo. Someday you may find yourself wanting to leave a stable job, a city you call home, or even a secure-seeming relationship in the pursuit of something greater.
It’s not normal to ask a waiter for a free matchbox, but it’s also not normal to leave a job, city, relationship, or anything else on those lines. If you hesitate in doing the former, what makes you think can do the latter?
“The more that we are exposing people to rejection, the more likely it is that they are willing to take a chance in the future.” — Daron Roberts
So a few months and more than a few matchbooks later, I feel a lot lighter when on a matchbox quest. I don’t rehearse my spiel as much and I feel less burnt out after asking. Each rejection has me kindling courage, and the fear of striking out is no match for me. :)