How I Saved $25K with One Simple Decision

My two hands: one was holding a mini American flag, and another was semi-raised in the air. Words of the United States Naturalization Oath were coming out of my mouth, and the sound of the Star-Spangled Banner was about to be played. I couldn't stop smiling. It had been a long wait to become a US citizen since I moved to this country decades ago. Now. I am finally an American!

This happy day comes with complications...

But one of my happiest moments also brought some complications – I needed a new passport, fast. I would need to travel to London in two months for a high-profile $25,000 speaking engagement. I can't get there without my new passport. The expedited passport service takes 5-7 weeks. It's tight, but I can probably make it.

The first thing I did after the naturalization ceremony wasn't downing two Big Macs or buying a shotgun at Walmart to show my new Americanness. It was to make a beeline for the post office, where people apply for passports. (You would think passport service happens at the embassy, State Department, or at least Social Security office, but NO, the freaking post office! I would rather get a colonoscopy than go to a post office. But this was for $25K. Daddy's got to eat!)

After waiting through a usually long line while chewing through one of my nails, I still had my genuinely bright smile. I asked the clerk, "I just became an American today. Where can I get a passport?"

The guy's face didn't move a muscle, "you need an appointment."

It's not like I was expecting a warm bro hug or a secret welcome-to-the-brotherhood handshake. Still, I was kind of hoping for a simple "congratulations!" But this was the least of my concern now.

"Wait, an appointment? What for?" I asked.

"To turn in your required documents." His face still didn't budge when speaking.

"Why do you need an appointment for that? I have all the documents here with me." I didn't know if I was impersonating a whining American or just becoming one.

"You need an appointment, bro." Still no facial movement other than his mouth. I tried to replicate it that night in front of a mirror but couldn't. I think talking without expression was this guy's superpower.

"OK, can I make an appointment now?"

"You need to do it on our website."

"How long would it take to get an appointment?"

"Two to three weeks."

All my excitement and pride in becoming an American are now gone. "I don't have 2 to 3 weeks! I have a speaking event in London in eight weeks. So adding the 2 to 3 weeks appointment wait to the 5-7 weeks it takes to process it, I am not gonna get my passport in time."

"Nothing I can do, bro." Who says a poker face isn't infuriating?

"Come on. There's got to be a way."

"You need an appointment, bro."

After giving a few more exasperated words and only to have a few more non-empathic "bro" s in return, I left.

Seriously? This is where you get a passport?

"Government bureaucracy… I can't believe this." I shook my head while driving my car, all while thinking about switching from Independent to Republican.

If this were me before 100 Days of Rejection, I would have accepted my fate, rushed home, and gone straight to make an appointment, hoping for a miracle that the passport would somehow arrive early in time for my flight.

But I was the Rejection Guy now. I was trained to think and act differently.

"Let me try this again," I said to myself.

I searched for another post office using Google Maps, and pulled up to the nearest one. I went in, waited through a similar line, and got to another clerk. I started my pitch:

"Hello, I just got my citizenship today, and I need my passport ASAP so I can make it to a speaking event in London. I know you usually need an appointment for this, but my event is in 8 weeks, and I might not have enough time to wait through the appointment and processing time. I have all the documents with me here, and I am looking for someone kind enough to help me. Would you be able to help me?"

This was a prepared statement injected with 3 different Rejection Therapy principles. I threw the kitchen sink at it.

"OK…" he nodded. This guy had more facial movement in one second than the other guy in 15 minutes. "I think I can help you. Are you sure you have all the docs?"

"Yes." I handed him the envelope that included enough information for someone to steal my identity twice.

"Here is the form. Fill it out. I'll take your application now. No need for an appointment."

"Thanks, man! You just saved me." I said profusely.

And he did. I got my passport seven weeks later, a few days before my scheduled flight.

London was amazing, by the way. I gave a great talk and collected $25,000, all while having a paid trip to one of my dream places. I am not into fish and chips, though. England, with all the land you've conquered in history, you named smelly fries your national dish?

I was this close to not being able to speak in London.

But looking back, it was a close call. Most people would treat rejection from one person representing an organization, such as "the government," as a rejection from the entire entity. But me? Rejection Therapy taught me that organizations are made of thousands of people with different mindsets. So if I can find the right person, and say the right things with the right attitude, I'll always give myself a chance to get the results I want.

After rejections, my Rejection Therapy training gave me the instinct to try again and the knowledge of what to say.

Life is full of decisions like this. Being able to handle rejections can make a huge difference in the long term. Maybe a better job, maybe a raise, and maybe the love of your life.

Do you have experiences like this – you got rejected, but you didn't give up, tried again, and eventually got what you wanted?

Share with me. I'd love to hear it.

Jia