A Short Post

Yesterday as I was leaving work, I overheard the receptionist on the phone. She obviously wasn’t on a business call, because this is what she said: “No, I’ve never dated short men.” For whatever reason, that comment made me laugh. And I told her as the elevator doors opened that I wished I had time to hang around and hear the rest of that conversation.

I was only half-kidding.

I’ve always been tall myself. ALWAYS. Not as tall as my sister-in-law, but at 5’9” I feel pretty tall. And keep in mind that 5’9” has been my height pretty much since high school. Not really a big deal, but there always seemed to be a shortage (no pun intended) of taller guys.

It seemed in high school that most guys were just my height or shorter than me. Once in a while, I would meet a taller guy, but not that often. I really didn’t have a problem with it back then, I tried to look beyond the surface and see the real person. (Oh, and by the way, I SUCKED at that. Most guys I dated in high school were total jerks.) Anyway, during my junior year of high school, my best friend and I hung out with this guy Steve. Steve was 20, blonde, very cute, and taller than me. Steve had a brother who was 17 named Robby, and Robby had darker hair, was ok looking, but was shorter than me. Now, since I was always the follower back in high school, and had a considerably less amount of self-esteem than my best friend, SHE was the one who wound up dating Steve. Yay for them. Meanwhile, I started thinking more about Robby – he was a funny guy, and he WAS older than me, after all… He flirted with me a lot, and finally one night while we were at a party, he and I wound up sitting on the couch together and making out. Now, sitting down, things were all well and good. Height didn’t seem to be such an obstacle at that point. So we didn’t stand up for the rest of the night, and talked and kissed a lot.

When I got home that night, I remember being so distraught over the fact that Robby was shorter than me that I even wrote about it in my journal. That particular entry turned into a blatant campaign FOR Robby, and I cited such famous couples as Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley and Barney and Betty Rubble. After much teenage angst, I decided that I didn’t care what other people thought, I liked him. And since my best friend had already asked Steve to Junior Prom, I made up my mind to ask Robby. Which I did. He said yes, and when Prom night came, I realized that I had probably made a huge mistake.


My heels made me even taller than Robby, and he looked pretty uncomfortable. The whole night, he was razzed, and I had several girls cattily ask me if I had brought my younger brother. When we had our prom picture taken, I took off my heels, but the photographer had another suggestion. He brought out a box for Robby to stand on. Unfortunately, even without my shoes and WITH the box, Robby was still shorter than me. (Funny, looking at the picture now, Robby reminds me of that sidekick from “A Christmas Story.” You know the one…) Long story short (again, no pun intended) after prom Robby broke up with ME because he said I was “too tall.” Whatever. He actually turned out to be pretty much a jerk anyway, and my cousin Karyn wound up grabbing him by his shirt and slamming him against a wall for hurting my feelings once – but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

As an adult, I tend to prefer taller men, just on principle. I probably would date someone my height, but would probably NOT date a shorter man ever again. And I would DEFINITELY never date a midget. Because believe it or not, I was propositioned by one about five years ago in a neighborhood bar. I’m so totally not kidding – do you really think I could make this stuff up??

See, I was supposed to meet a friend, but she called me on my cell to cancel once I was already there and waiting. Since it was a neighborhood bar, I decided to just hang out by myself and chat with the bartender and the other people. So there I am, socializing and having fun (and getting a lot of free drinks, too, being a girl alone in a bar does have its advantages…) when this midget (literally) jumps up onto the empty stool next to me. I found this pretty humorous, partially because I was pretty buzzed, and partially because it’s not every day a midget starts flirting with you. Anyway, he starts talking to me and trying to impress me with the things midgets can do for a woman (EEEWWW!!) and I start to realize that he is a TOTAL PERV and I want him gone. So I kind of start ignoring him, and then he asks me, “SO, do you know any other midgets?” And I’m all like, “Uh, no, I really don’t think so.” But then it occurred to me – I DID! “Wait a minute!” I then said, “Actually, I DID know a guy when I was in high school and used to hang out at the roller rink. He was a dj there and-” At this point, midget interrupted me: “That was me.”

Wow. Small world (third time – NO PUN INTENDED). Then I had ANOTHER thought. “But wait! There WAS another guy who was a dj at Shooter’s when I used to go THERE about ten years ago or so…” I didn’t get to finish that thought either, because (you guessed it) “That was me, too. Wow, I KNEW you looked familiar!”

Of course. I mean, what are the odds that I would know more than one midget? Pretty slim. So apparently I already knew this guy from wayyyy back in my past, but obviously he didn’t used to be this perverted, and had never hit on me. Or maybe I had never noticed. Which I really don’t think was the case, because his come-on lines NOW were pretty blatant. And vulgar. Eventually he got tired of me ignoring him and hopped off the stool and left. Thankfully, I never saw him again.

So, those are my reasons for not wanting to date shorter men. Or midgets (who would be shorter men by default). But you can’t say I didn’t at least try.