Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Short Story

"I just HAVE to ask...How tall are you?"

Do you know how many times a day I here that? Especially at work. People come in, take a couple of what they think are discreet looks at me, and then make the above statement. It's not that I mind people asking how tall I am, really I don't. I mean, my height, or lack thereof, is part of who I am. And yes, I really am 4'9". No, I'm not kidding. What I really don't like is when people stand there and make a huge issue over the fact. Because that's all it is, a fact. And nothing they say will change the fact. Now, you may or may not believe me. You may or may not think that the entire situation is completely hilarious. You may or may not have a cousin whose hairdresser's sister's nephew's girlfriend is the exact same height as me. In any case, my height is what it is, and it will not change. So ask if you must, and make jokes if you so desire; but let's leave it at that, shall we? If you really must state the obvious, do so. Go on, say it. Yes, I'm SHORT. As long as we're stating the obvious: The earth is round, large groups of children are always loud, and I'm short.

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