....but i'm not

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I Hope This Doesn't Creep You Out Too Much...

Over the years I have learned that no conversation that begins with "I hope this doesn't creep you out too much" ends with me being anything but thoroughly creeped out.

"I hope this doesn't creep you out too much but I used several global databases and surveillance footage to find out where you work, live, run, grocery shop, and staycation."

"I hope this doesn't creep you out too much but I'd like to take pictures of you while you sleep."

"I hope this doesn't creep you out too much but I have this nasty rash on my stomach."

So this morning while I'm fumbling for cream and sugar in the work cafeteria and a woman approaches me with a "I hope you aren't going to be too creeped out by this question," I had a really strong urge to just tell her "You know what, it's 8am and I'm already creeped out so come on, just sock-it-to-me, what have ya got?"

Instead I smiled and gave her the go ahead, knowing that the question was going to be some variation of "So I have to ask, how tall are you?" After 15 years of answering these types of questions, listing the various sports that I play/don't play, and standing back-to-back with strange men in bars to compare heights, I'm used to it.

Not letting me down she asks, "Mind if I ask how tall you are? I used to work with a girl who was as tall as you. Do you model? She modeled. You could you know, you could probably make a lot of money."

In one instant I feel the obligation to explain how tall my parents are, my uncles, my ancestors. I feel the compulsion to explain that I tried modeling once but they told me I needed to shave the bone off my hips so I thought I should just finish high school instead. I feel the need to tell her that I enjoy my life and don't want to become a coke addict.

And lastly, I feel the desire to explain to her that of course I'd like to look like Giselle Bündchen and spend my time in foreign lands rolling around on sandy beaches with no clothes on and still feel like 1 million bucks, but instead I say "Nope, I'm just tall" and head back upstairs to my double monitors and framed photo of Joe Biden in my cozy cubicle.

3 comments:

  1. Or there is always the girl in the Cowboy boots store who asks if you like being tall and then goes on a 15 minute non-stop rant about how she likes being tall, how she just started using the phrase "that's what she said", and about how there are these guys who work in the bar across the street who had a birthday party and let her come and one was name Bob and one was named Jim and one was named Will............ Now that was an awesome conversation sparked by nothing other than how tall you were.

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  2. you're really not THAT tall. hate to break it to you, but until you gain another 4" in height, you're vertically challenged compared to our friend that lives somewhere around us and works at the mart......you know who i'm talking about. when you are that tall, then you can no longer feel awkward walking on the same side of the street as her. i wonder what kinds of things people ask her?

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