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If you can't say something nice...

OK. I want you to take a minute to describe this scene. Picture this:

I'm in the local grocery market, where weird things always happen. I have a coupon in my pocket for the free turkey I've earned by spending so much friggin' money on groceries. So I'm looking in the freezer case for the largest bird for my buck, so to speak. I'm bent over, no gloves, elbow deep in a freezer, wrestling with these giant frozen turkeys, and an old moustachioed woman with a Russian accent is talking my ear off. She's leaning her tushy on the edge of the freezer waiting for the butcher to cut a fresh turkey in half for her -- which is something I've never even imagined could be done! -- and she's telling me all about why, how, and where she'll be celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday. Because I'm all for a little friendliness between strangers, I listen as I continue to wrangle my turkey from the case.

So, a couple minutes pass, my hands are starting to sting from the cold, but I finally grab my 19-pounder (yeah, dammit, I found the biggest one in there!) and pull it out of the freezer. I drop it into my cart, where it rolls around like a bowling ball (or a giant severed head), and I smile triumphantly at my new Russian friend and wish her a happy holiday. I blow some hot breath into my freezing cold hands, and turn around to walk to the check-out line. And this is when it happens...

"How's the weather up there?"

What? Are you kidding? I stop and stare, dumbfounded, at this average-statured, middle-aged man standing in front of me. He's beaming a big dorky smile, obviously impressed with his wit. I say nothing. I can't even speak. I cock my head to one side and look him in the eye, then I start walking away, pushing my giant turkey in front of me. Maybe he'll just disappear. Yet he says it again as I pass him, as if he thinks I didn't hear him: "How's the weather up there? You're a taaall girl!"

Those of you who know me know that I'm not quick with the comebacks. Ever. And I don't say mean things even when people are offensive. So I ignored him and moved on. He didn't hurt my feelings, of course, and really, that wasn't even an offensive comment. Just stupid.

Why am always amazed at people's need to point out the obvious to me? I've noticed that I'm tall. I have been 6'2" since I was 13 years old, dude. This is not news. Would you walk up to someone who is obese and say "Man, you're fat!" Or, do you approach an elderly woman and holler "Damn, your hair is gray!"

And another thing that I'll throw out there as a public service message: If you're going to comment to a tall girl about her height, try to come up with something a little more clever. Please! At least you might win points for originality, like the short little wrestler dude in college who tried to convince me to go home with him by telling me "You know, we're all the same height laying down." I mean, that was at least different!

We tall girls will only cut you some slack for dumb comments if you are obviously slow or retarded, as was the case with the guy at the 7-11 a couple years ago who threw a couple of Jolly Green Giant and Big Bird remarks my way while I poured my morning coffee.

But really, how's the weather up there? Come on!


  1. People are shit.* Period.

    Which Acme was this so I know which freezer cases to avoid? I threw up in my mouth a little at the thought of that woman hanging her but over the food and Lord knows I don't want to pick up a bag of fish sticks with frozen ass fibers on it.

    *My viewpoint might be somewhat biased after I discovered that the love of my life has left me pregnant and ice cream-less. Nah, people really are just shit.

  2. It was the Superfresh, actually. Always weird stuff happening in there. Tomorrow I'll visit the liquor store in that plaza, too, where all the drunks hang out in the middle of the day and no one seems to notice. Good times!


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