Over the weekend I went out with friends in Olde City (that is downtown Philadelphia for all those out of staters). We met at the Continental and grabbed a few drinks. On my way back to my car I was accosted by a dwarf. No not a real dwarf because then this post would be mean and that's not my way....I mean a random guy who sits at boob height sparking up conversation about nothing. This nothing usually stems on my height.(Side note like most quarter-life chicas I have a certain affinity for heels. Not just your run of the mill podunk Nine West stiletto....I'm talking about monster heels, ginormous over the top, what some might call f**k me pumps, if I had a foul mouth) Like I said I am 5'7ish in flats. Since I was out with my friends I had on "hooker heels" that were about 4 inches high. In retrospect I probably looked like a sky scraper, but the heels were killer!
Anyway back to the point, the dwarf. His opening line was," Damn you're tall. How tall do you think I am?" The me of old would have said something like why would I care how tall you are, obviously shorter than me. However in the past yr or so I've turned over new leaves and I said something like at the most 5'5" give or take an inch or three. (Side note do I look like a human tape measure.) And this is where I went wrong. He mistakenly thought my being polite funny was flirty funny and went on and on about my height. I wanted to sprint to my car but as you recall I was wearing 4inch heels and track shoe they weren't. Eventually Mr. Midget got the point and stubby legged it back to his gnome corner
Bottom line here....unless you're over 5'9" please keep it moving.....LMAO :-D
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