A Tall Tale

No man is 5’10”. I don’t know why. They just aren’t. If they say they are, well they’re shorter. 5’11” is good and shorter is shorter but if they say 5’10” Its a crap shoot at best. I have a friend who said as he looked me in the eye – level in the eye – I’m 5’10”. I’m 170 centimeters. Thankfully his son the engineer was with us and whipped out his calculator and said Dad that’s 5’7″. I knew that. I’m 5’7″. We’re eye to eye. Unless you have an oversized forehead, and I mean a good 5″ dome, how can we be eye to eye and you’ve got 3 on me? Go figure he was shocked. Truly shocked. So ok. Maybe that was a conversion problem. One guy I met who was obviously my height when I asked him about the 3″ difference listed just smiled slyly. Aka-caught in a lie aren’t I cute? If I’d lied about my weight by 20 pounds would it be cute? Just askin’. The only other explanation I have for the rest of them is this. Put your hands together like you’re praying. Cuz you’re gonna need it. Now put you hands pinky side down on a table. Pull your hands about 4″ apart. Now in your head hear “yeah baby, give me all that. You’re so big, gimme that 10 inch thang”. Now turn your hand in unison until the knuckles of one hand are on the table. Now take those “10 inches” and extrapolate to your perceived height. Voila! 67 inches turns into 70! It’s dating math.

Conversions confusions & confabulators.

And here’s how it works out in the field:

This friend of mine met a guy online. She’s 5’7″. He said he was taller. He wasn’t. She said at first it didn’t matter, so what if when he stood up he came up to her ears? She could hear him better that way. Who knows, there might even be some advantages. Then his little feet swinging in the air off the couch was kind of a turn off. But worse was the body odor. I said it wasn’t his fault. If his nose hit everyone’s armpits he thought that was how everyone smelled. The new pheromones. Aside: She laughed so hard when I said that that she peed in her thong. Not that she didn’t have time to get to the bathroom, just forgot that little slip of fabric was even there to remove. Small things get overlooked some times and that’s just another reason to stick to people in your height category. As an example.

So I said just go live your life. Do what you like. You’ll meet someone just out there. Frankly I hate when people say that to me. Like I’m some hermit in a cave. Sitting home knitting or tatting. But if misery loves company stupid advice needs passing on. So she likes to ski. Go skiing I said. That’s a guy thing.

So she goes.

Now I’ve lived in a ski resort. You can spend all day on the slopes and you can’t recognize the guy who’s skis you tripped over even if later you’re close enough to spill your après ski drink on him. (Do you see a pattern here? You can stop wondering why I’m single right now.) A guy with a ski cap, goggles, gloves, baggy parka just looks different than a guy with a tight turtle neck and a martini in hand. The beach is easy. Even a guy in super baggy calf length shorts looks pretty much the same later on in tight jeans and a polo shirt carrying a cognac to you as you emerge from the water (true story – but caveat – I was swimming topless and my boobs were only 24 years old. Well actually my boobs were about 8 years old but that’d be splitting hairs.) So after a day skiing she sidled up to the bar and there are all these tall good looking men and she probably spoke to half them in the lift line but now she gets to see them up close and personal. Conversation goes somewhat like this:

Hey, you’re active and into skiing.
I’m active and into skiing!
You’re good looking and fit.
I’m good looking and fit !
You’re around 38-50 age group.
I’m in the 38-50 age group!
You love to suck cock.
I love to… Hey wait a minute ….Huh? …. What?

Here’s some advice. Never ask a woman who’ve you’ve encouraged to spend hundreds of dollars on a weekend to have fun and meet guys how the weekend went when she runs into the annual ski trip for the Gay men’s whatever-what’s-the-difference club.

It goes like this:

Take your expletive weekend idea up you expletive body part and go expletive yourself with it (and that’s the cliff notes version). You get the picture. Ok, so gee – touchy, touchy. But the snow was good, right?

Fast forward a few months. She gets an invite to an engagement party. Friend met a guy online. Why is it it seems everyone else meets a guy online. Engaged? Serious salt in the wound. But wait … Silver lining. It’s little Mr Needs a Shower. Pot for every lid? Every pot armed with Irish Spring? Still it feels like a body blow, why is that? One mans lid is another mans deflector shield and you have also to remember, sometimes the lid is really to little for the pot. Some people are better at tilting it so it rests on the sides without really falling in but neither doing the job as intended. You just have to accept that.

Post script: she actually DID meet a guy and he’s tall and great and they’re doing happily so far ever after and she met him while out kayaking, biking, hiking, being the wilderness gal she is, just a-livin’ her life. That advice hasn’t worked yet for me but apparently, like a good rumor, there’s a grain of truth in every little pearl of wisdom out there.


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