Short Stuff

"Short Stuff"

         You're tall; I'm short. As we walk down a hallway you reach up and place the palm of your hand against the low ceiling. I leap and graze the ceiling with my fingernail. You pat my head in recognition of my good effort. I smile demurely and secretly plot your demise.
         As you are patting my head, we walk through a low doorway and thud! The phrase "dazed and confused" applies as you lay sprawled out on the linoleum. I bend over and pat your head in sympathy. Sometimes it's good to be short.
         Especially in those cases with low overhangs such as branches, doorways, signs, light fixtures, the infamous low ceilings, and so on. As with branches, the lesser of the snagging evil is simply disarranging the tall person's hair. The greater of the snagging evil involves repetition of the word "ow" and five minutes to untangle--I giggle and walk on. On the subject of doorways, severe bruising is a possibility unless one remembers to duck--I giggle and walk through. Lastly, with signs or light fixtures, since rational people hang them higher, often the taller people don't think about ducking. It's much worse if the sign or light fixture does not move on impact--I giggle and walk under. Ceilings are the greatest evil of all the low structures, such that they get their own paragraph.
         In my house we have a storage room under the stairs. This room is approximately five feet three inches tall. I am approximately five feet three inches tall. I fit. A pathetic number of my friends also fit. We are the chosen few. I can enter that storage room for paper towels, a can of fruit, or a sleeping bag without a second thought. If my father were to go after these same items, a resonating thud can sometimes be heard throughout the house followed by a few interesting, select phrases. He's tall--I giggle. If you are approximately five foot three or shorter, come over. We'll have tea in the room under my staircase.
         Another prominent advantage is that shortness makes you feel young. As I was standing in line anxiously awaiting an ice cream cone piled with the delectable frozen substance many are so fond of, a person appeared to my left. I received the treat and veered off in that direction to reunite with my friends. As I did so, I stopped short of colliding into a solid mass of "Black Dude." I almost came up to his armpits. Up and up my gaze went as I struggled to find his face. What a sight we must have been . . . huge black dude and midget-y white chick. Him oblivious to my presence, not even in the same altitude. Me delicately licking my ice cream cone with saucer-round eyes gazing up. I felt seven.
         Now, admittedly, when I said shortness makes you feel young, seven years old is probably younger than most would like to feel. But, hey, seven-year-olds have a lot of freedom and a lot of energy. That's good, right? Right?
         Anyway, on to my next rationale: drinking fountains. All short people have either stood in line behind or noticed one of those poor pathetic souls who have to lean over to the extreme of making their bodies thirty-five degree angles so that they can quench their thirst. Not to mention the sad plea of hopelessness in their eyes when the taller fountain is being used--perhaps even by a short(er) person--and the lower fountain comes only to the tall person's knees if that. This can get very comical if the tall person decides they're too thirsty to wait. Think contortionists.
         Also, there's the troublesome example of leg room. Of course, it's only troublesome for the tall people. I recently went to see a movie with four of my tall friends. As we settled into our seats and I munched obliviously on popcorn, they struggled to position themselves comfortably without looking as if they were giving birth. I, being blissfully short, was not burdened with the dilemma. Other types of theaters, such as playhouses, also sport this predicament for tall people. However, the playhouses take it one step further since etiquette reigns with a strong fist against making yourself comfortable by placing your feet on the chair in front of you.
         While auditorium arrangements make tall people look like they're giving birth, compact spaces such as cars, buses, and desks give tall people the appearance of squashed spiders with the contracted, gangly legs. That can't be comfortable. When I drive or call shotgun in a vehicle, there is always a chorus of, "I get to sit behind Krista," from those poor tall people friends I associate with. As a self-admitting short person, I have absolutely no problem with this obnoxious situation.
         The final problematic situation involving the dreaded "leg room" is this: imagine sitting at a restaurant in a nice cushy booth surrounded by other diners. You've sat across from your friend who is tall, just as you are. First, when you sit in synchronization, a crack is audible to those in your booth and the adjacent booths. You both cringe and rub your bruised knees, laugh awkwardly and sit. Next is unintentional footsie. This is the most amusing if the two friends are of the same gender. Following that is general tangling of appendages. And all this before the server has come to take your order.
         Then there's vertically challenged little me. I can sit across from whomever I please and have absolutely no problem with personal space. Also, the person opposite me knows that if a little bit of footsie action is going on, it's intentional. They don't have to be confused.
         And so you see there are actual joys of being short. You don't hit your head nearly as often, you don't need to learn the art of contortionism for a simple drink of water, and you don't need to scrunch up your legs or become too friendly with someone else's legs. So if you're short and slightly peeved about it, just think of all the pain you've saved by your lack of height! Oh, and if you need an extra boost, imagine someone tall whom you're not fond of sitting in a theater with their legs askew, looking like they're giving birth. Always works for me.