On Being Tall

There are a lot of benefits of being tall. Shorter people could probably list them better than I could because they dwell on it much more often than I take advantage of it. You tend to remember things more clearly when they limit your daily activities. Such as reaching for a glass in the cupboard, changing a lightbulb, or being more physically attractive.

What most people don't realize are the downsides of being large. Those I can list.

It's impossible to lay comfortably on a couch.

Doorways.

You get spotted ANYWHERE you go.

"Oh you're nice and tall. Could you be a nice boy and grab that industrial sized jar of pickles up there?"

Not only can you drive with your knees, but in some cases (like a Dodge Neon...) it's almost impossible not to.

Ever hear you're too tall to ride a rollercoaster? I have. (Imagine me standing, holding my cotton candy, looking up through tears as the rollercoaster ascends the lift)

Trampolines? Nope!

Not being able to sit Indian style.

Not being able to wrestle your 114 pound girlfriend without breaking her nose by accident.

"Let's go start a fight with that super-tall dude. He probably thinks he's so freakin' cool."

After doing your business in a bathroom stall, you can stand up and make eye contact with everyone who now knows you just did your business in that bathroom stall.

Group photographs.

Being first pick in basketball when you're really not that good at basketball.

Typical first reaction to a severe fall is usually laughter.

Buying pants.

The list goes on and on. There are also small events during the day which make me wish I wasn't so tall. For instance, I recently held the door for a midget (an actual midget). I was walking out as he was walking in. My first instinct was to not stare (or feed him skittles, or open my bag towards him while pointing inside of it). I would hold the door for him as I would any person twice his size. But in the matter we exited and entered simultaneously, I was forced to arch my arm above him to make sure the heavy glass door didn't squish him. He stopped and looked up. I kept my eyes level staring at the wall. He then thanked me and walked right underneath my outstretched arm. Like a bridge of sympathy, I stood staring at the adjacent wall. Using my peripheral vision, as well as my 3 foot height advantage, I surveyed the lobby to see if anyone else was catching a glimpse of the most awkward moment in human history. There was one man holding a newspaper who took an extra second before getting on the now-waiting elevator to make sure he knew what he was seeing.

I exited quickly and got my laughs out for a good ten minutes.

In a building later in the same day, I waited for an elevator going down. One opened and as I stepped in it occurred to me I was easily two feet taller than any other passenger. Of course the only spot left for me to stand was right in the middle. The mirrored doors closed about two feet in front of me and I could clearly get a third person's view of how dumb I looked. There I was... a 6'4" bearded man surrounded by the lollipop guild. What should have been a short (no pun-intended) ride turned out feeling like a 70 story trip from Munchkinland. When the doors opened, I was happy not to see a yellow brick road, and I once again left the building without laughing until I was outside.

It's moments like these that make me wish I wasn't tall. My mental image of myself is roughly around 6' tall and when stuff happens to remind me I'm considerably bigger than that, it tends to ruin my day.