The people I hold nearest and dearest to my heart know that my height can be a touchy subject. When you’re a woman whom is taller than 6 feet, you occasionally get “the question.” Nine point nine times out of ten, when a random stranger says to me:

Can I ask you a question?

Rando trying to talk to me

Yep, 9.9 times out of 10 they’re going to ask me about my height. Groan…nobody wants to ask me my time travel fantasies? Or ask me which band members of The Yardbirds were inducted into the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame besides Clapton, Beck and Page? No, everyone just needs to know how tall I am (6 3ish for the record).

I’ve reacted to questions and comments about my height in a variety of ways throughout my life. I back handed a guy in a bar when I was 21 for calling me a “tall drink of water,” I told a guy my sport was “dwarf tossing” when they asked me about what sports I played, I’ve said “None of your business,” I’ve outright ignored nosy people.

Yes, I’ve been teased about this…body anomaly – since I was a kid. I had an anonymous person leave a note in my locker in 9th grade which informed me that my legs were too long and that I should cut them off (so classy). I’ve been called Jolly Green Giant, To Tall Jones, Andre, Tree and even as recently as 2010 a woman in a bar called me “fucking giant.” This was after I’d dumped a beer on her husband’s head, which was AFTER he’d dumped MY beer on me, so her anger wasn’t misguided, though her maturity and word choice were lacking (this is a story for another time).

Today, I had a dollar store clerk try to play the “guess the height” game with me. I wasn’t rude, I actually was decently mature about the whole thing. When they asked the other question I’ve heard a zillion times in my life:

Have you ever played basketball?

Nosy dollar store clerk

I just said, “Sorry, no. I’m not even remotely athletic.”

A far cry from a backhanding, n’est ce pas?

As for mellowing out, now I can attribute my mellowness to some nice seasonal beers which I’ll call Christmas ales. Ho, ho, ho, who can’t go for that?