Let It Go

There is a certain personality I’ve run across while meeting new people, and I have since learned that, guy or girl, we will never get along well. It’s the overly sensitive person who can’t (or refuses to) admit it. They try to hide behind a tough exterior. This person tries hard to be sarcastic and to keep up with other sarcastic people but end up with their feelings hurt way too easily. This usually doesn’t bode well for them in certain social situations. Usually I am able to pick them out and avoid them, but a few months ago, I ran into one of these people in male form, and I couldn’t escape.

When we matched on Tinder, his “brother-in-law” was the one who messaged me from the app. He said that they were camping together and that T had left his phone at the cabin while he went on an errand with bro-in-law’s wife (I’m guessing that would be T’s sister).

Anyway, he told me what a great guy T is and how he “deserves someone special” and blah, blah, blah. Cool bro. I didn’t see any reason not to continue talking to him, and when the “real” T messaged me, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Not super attractive, but sometimes personality makes up for that. So you never know, right??

We decided to meet at Fahrenheit for drinks later that week, and when the day rolled around, the weather was perfect, so I decided to walk there. It was super windy but felt amazing, and I almost let myself get excited about the date.

Now, before I go any further, let me explain something to you: Say what you will, but height matters. I am very tall for a girl, and, while most guys think they could be okay with a girl that is taller than they are, they aren’t. At least not the ones I am attracted to. The guys I tend to lean toward are usually on the douchier side of the spectrum (because at least they are honest about being an asshole and it doesn’t come as quite so much of a shock when they act like assholes as it does when the self-proclaimed “nice guy” becomes one). So while it seems awesome on paper to go out with a girl that is taller than they are, it usually bothers them as much as it bothers me. So I always wear flats on a first date. Doesn’t matter how tall they say they are, I have a strong personality and want to come across with the least amount of intimidation as possible–and sometimes height doesn’t even come up in conversation beforehand, so I don’t always know what I am getting myself into.

Anyway, I got to Fahrenheit and he was waiting by the elevator (it’s a rooftop bar), and I immediately knew it was never going to work. He has to be 5’9” on a good day. On top of that, the first thing he said to me is, “Wow, you’re tall!” And all I can think is, “That is literally the first thing on my profile.” Clearly someone did his research. But I’ve done this a thousand times before, so I just grin and say, “Yeah!” and laugh awkwardly (while rolling my eyes and dying a little bit on the inside–here we go, again).

Then he goes on to say, “Guess I should’ve worn my tall shoes! I’m six feet, so how tall are you?!”

“Five eleven”

“That can’t be true. My doctor says I’m six feet.”

“Your doctor is lying to you. I’ve been 5’11” since the fifth grade.” Trust me. Bitches are mean when you are the tallest girl person in the fifth grade. I know exactly how tall I am.

So we kind of get past it, go sit down and get a drink, because I desperately needed one already. I f’ing hate arguing with people over height. It’s literally been the subject of my entire life. Can people please try to come up with something original?!

After a couple of drinks and pictures taken on the balcony (it was a nice view of the city), he wanted to get dinner. And at that point, he seemed like a really fun guy. He has a lot of interests, and I thought he’d be really cool to be friends with. Not to mention we hadn’t talked about height in almost an hour. Maybe we could get past it.

He suggested Basil, and since Basil is amazing, I was all for it. Although, looking back now, I should have ended it at drinks. Hind sight, amiright??

As we walked to Basil from Fahrenheit, he brought up the height issue again.

Damn it. I thought we had gotten past this.

At this point I realize he’s in full-on denial about his height. I guess it’s easy to convince girls that are 5’2″ that you are 6 feet when you’re actually not. So since I was tired of entertaining him, I started half-joking-but-not-really about his height. He did not like that at all.

“You make me feel so short!”

“Well, you’re definitely not six feet tall…” 

“Ouch! Now I feel like I should bring out my paperwork from the doctor.”

“You might be 5’9” dude. Your doctor is lying to you.”

We continued to go back and forth for a couple more minutes, but I could tell he was actually getting his feelings hurt (join the club, buddy!!). So I tried hard to change the subject, and after a while, he finally let it go. He then told me he liked our back and forth and how we could both joke with one another. Oh man. I’m a terrible liar, so he was either in denial about his whole existence or was really just that bad at reading this painful situation.

T is a very nice guy, and I would have loved to have been friends with him. But if you continue to insist on being right about something that is just blatantly not true and get your feelings hurt when I call you out on it, you’re done for, dude. We will never make it. As friends or as anything else. 

So, if you’re taking notes, take this: You have to know when to let something die. If you’re a sensitive person, own it and recognize that sometimes people just. Don’t. Get. Along. And it’s okay. The wonderful part of being an adult (other than eating dessert—or wine—for dinner) means you no longer need to waste your time and energy trying to force something that isn’t there. I won’t apologize for who I am and neither should you.

Also, your tall jokes aren’t funny or original, and it gets really hard to laugh at them after a while. Even if I really like you.