you must be this tall to get on THIS ride

I’ve only been accused of being shallow once in my life. It was an accusation I dismissed very quickly and haven’t really thought much about since. Why? Well, because I think that I make a conscious effort in my life to look beyond the physical and into who a person truly is on the inside.

But when it comes to the opposite sex, I can’t deny that physical attraction is a component, maybe not a major one but a necessary one nonetheless. And for me, this begins and ends with someone’s height. Why? Because I’m tall (5’8” when shoeless). In college, I dated someone who was 5’8” and very uncomfortable whenever I wore heels. He had a serious complex about my height, which gave me a complex. When things ended with him, I was determined never to date anyone as tall as I am.

So a height requirement was added to my short list of boy requisites—otherwise known as my Four Requirements. The first is Intelligence because I can’t be with someone who can’t carry on an intelligent conversation. The next is a Sense of Humor because I need someone to make me laugh and vice versa. The third is Ambition because determination and drive is very sexy. And finally, the fourth and final requirement (and the most absolute, meaning the other three are null and void if this isn’t met) is Height, meaning you must be at least 5’11” to ride this ride. Why 5’11”? Because then I can wear 3” heels before freaking out my S.O.

Shortly after I came up with the Four Requirements, I met a boy named Shane. He was 5’8” and friends with some of my co-workers. He started showing up whenever I went out with my co-workers after work and he and I got to know each other. He was an artist who dreamed of art school but was dragging his feet through community college. He taught me a lot about art and we got along well. Eventually we started hanging out just the two of us.

One day, my co-workers cornered me and asked me what was up with Shane. I told them nothing, as far as I knew. We were just going out for coffee and drinks occasionally. I enjoyed his company but there was definitely no attraction since we were the same height. They told me that Shane had a major crush on me. Awww…I was flattered of course, but not interested in pursuing anything more than friendship. We stayed friends even after I moved to DC.

In my first year as a DC resident, I tried to visit home a lot. I was homesick and I wanted to see my friends and family. For some reason, Shane and I would try to connect while I was home but he always had plans to be out of town (Vegas, San Fran, whatever). On one particular visit, Shane was home too and we decided to go out for coffee.

We met at the Starbucks on Harbor Boulevard. It was great to see him but I got this weird vibe from him. Perhaps it was my intuition, but I felt that Shane was going to make a move. In the 2 years that we had been friends, he had never tried anything so I’m not sure why he would try something when I was living on the other side of the country. After coffee, he invited me back to his place; he had just moved into a new apartment in Newport and he wanted me to see it. Also, he had a new roommate, who just so happened to be gay, that he wanted me to meet. I had my misgivings, but I gave in and followed him back to his apartment.

When we arrived, Shane opened the door to his place and there were candles everywhere, a bottle of red wine on the bar with two goblets. There was no sign of his gay roommie, whom I suspect set this whole thing up for Shane and me. Hmmm…I think I just walked into a trap.

Shane tried to get all romantic but I was too shocked at first to put an end to it. Eventually, as we were sitting down with our wine, Shane asked me if I had ever pictured us together. I replied, “Yes, as friends.” Shane asked, “You’ve never considered being more than friends?” I answered, “No.” Shane pushed some more: “Why?” I answered, “Because I don’t want to be more than friends.” Shane was persistent and asked, “What if we tried?” I said, “I don’t want to.” But the boy can’t take no for answer. He said, “If I kissed you, I think you’d like it.” I told him, “No I wouldn’t.” Still determined, Shane wondered out loud, “Why aren’t you interested?” I answered, “Because I’m not attracted to you that way.”

He stood up from where he was sitting and walked over to me and I stood up to meet him. I towered over him in my three inch heels. Shane was fully aware of the 4 requirements. Shane said, “I don’t have an issue with your height. This is about my height isn’t it?” “Shane,” I told him, “I’m sorry but I’m not interested in you and you know why. It’s time for me to go.” As I walked out, Shane followed me and he was livid. He kept calling me shallow and telling me that I was going to regret walking out on him and this opportunity. I let him get it all out and then I walked up to him and hugged him. I said, “I don’t want to end it like this, with all of your yelling.” I got into my car and drove away.

Some girls go for a certain type of guy. The bad boy. The tall, dark, and handsome type. The stereotypical surfer boy. Me? I just wanted a guy with some height.

Good thing Jesse’s 6’1".