About two months ago, running late for a party (as usual), I was that person I always mock- doing my make-up on the bus- when a random man came and sat next to me. He looked cute enough, so I felt the need to strike up a conversation (mainly to justify why I was trying to apply eye liner on a bumpy, slightly ghetto city bus). 5 stops later we’re still talking, and it’s going well. His stop arrived suddenly, and in a very hasty move he handed me his business card in a whirl, hoping we could talk again. It turns out he worked at the travel agency at the very university I currently attend (small world).
Being the awkward person I am, I crafted quite the gem of an email. It was titled, “This one time riding the 92…” and made all sorts of ridiculous references to the bus, etc. His response came a few days later….
“Despite the personalized e-mail address, I work in an office where several people share the same e-mail account. I think I got to your e-mail first on Tuesday morning. However, my co-workers might think I'm some weirdo who rides around trying to pick up women on buses all day long. Obviously that's not the case.”
Obviously, after receiving this email, I knew I could never EVER utilize the university travel agency. And, with what happens next, this stance has been completely solidified.
Despite the awkward email exchange, we made plans to go out and grab some drinks. I should preface this with the fact that I am 6’1” myself, and a complete heightist. I do not date below 6’3” (yes, yes I know mom, I’m ruling out 98% of the male population), and you’re lucky if I even humor the thought of a conversation or drunk make-out if you’re below 6’. So…considering we had met sitting down, I had many reservations and worries (only furthered by my comprehensive stalking of his facebook pictures).
Sure enough he walks in…and is 5’11”/6’…tops. But I’ve been single for a long time, and by long time, I mean LONG time….going on 5 years now, so, I decided to actually give it a try. Why not right? So for the next month or so we went out maybe once or twice a week, exchanged a few awkward and/or drunk make-out sessions in the snow and rain, and had a pretty good time. Then things got dicey. I could not get over the height thing (HUGE strike 1). And then he started attempting PDA in front of my friends (strike 2) and telling me how much he liked me (strike 3). He. Had. To. Go.
So because I’m clearly a very mature and responsible grown-up I crafted a series of text messages, pulling out every cliché in the book. “I’m sorry, I can’t get over the height thing…” “it’s not you, it’s me.” “It bothers me that you’re short,” “Let’s just be friends.” Yada yada yada. Send.
Then it hit me…it was VALENTINE’S DAY. I just told the man I was dating, on Valentine’s Day, that he was too short to date. Talk about serious ego blow. And he did not go without a fight. We text message “fought” over this for hours… sorry sucker, I know you like me….but you’re short. Goodbye. Needless to say, the “let’s be friends” has not come to fruition.
Moral of the story: I am a horrible and unsympathetic person….who will most likely be single for (at least) the next 5 years.