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I Just Don't Fit!
I am drawn back to my youth and how things never seemed to fit very well. As a pre-teen, I hit a growth spurt that had my parents and virtually everyone around me scratching their heads. You see, in the 5th grade, I was your normal but slightly taller than normal boy. I was still 5’6” at the end of the school year. During that summer, I guess I got too much fresh air, too much exercise and too much food. By the time school started again, I was not just in the 6th grade, I was also 6 feet tall.
Somehow, I had grown a full 6 inches in that 11 week period. Nothing I had worn the year before fit. My parents were afraid to take me clothes shopping for the new school year as they had no idea how long the clothes would fit. I will say, this really working in my favor as I had passed my older brother by 3 inches. No hand-me-downs for little cxxc ever again!
Unfortunately, growing so quickly had other negative side effects. In that one year, I broke more bones, got more stitches, had more sprains and concussions that any other year combined. The doctors started to wonder if I was an abuse child. In one visit (I had a broken wrist from a tumble on a bike) the doctor asked my mother to leave the room. She knew what was up! He put his hand gently upon my shoulder, looked at me with all the concern and compassion he was capable of and asked, “Son, does your father beat you?”
Well, I should have known then I was going to turn out as I have. I could not help myself. With the best poker face I could muster, I looked back into those caring eyes and said, “Yes! Yes he does! Quite often actually!”
I let that sink in for a moment as he considered his next action while putting the cast upon my wrist. Then I hit him with it!
“But how else am I to learn how to play checkers. He never let me win!”
Slamming the remains of the plaster roll upon his work table, he reached to the door, flung it open and called to my mother yelling, “WE ARE DONE HERE! You can take him home now!”
Sorry, this is not about my inability to put a filter on my humor. It is about not fitting in. by the end of the 6th grade, I was 6’1. I seemed to have slowed my growth down a bit but knew I had more to go. I was still bumping into stuff. My clothes were not fitting as they should. I was rarely ever seen with my shirt sleeves rolled down as they were generally an inch or two too short. I thank my mother for buying pants MUCH longer than I needed them and hemming them as my legs grew!
As soon as I hit middle school (The high school and middle school were in the same building just separated in a fashion) the basketball and football coaches descended! Let me tell you, I really wish I was coordinated. I can dribble down the front of my shirt, but that is about it! Basketball was not my sport. My mother pulled me out of football after my 2nd game. The broken collarbone sealed the deal for her there.
Flash to High School Graduation! Like any 18 year old, I had hit my peak in height. At 6’4” I towered over all of my family members and nearly everyone in my school. Then came the real world. Work, dating, dancing, hobbies, all the stuff you really don’t think about as a kid. Well, dancing, dating and hobbies are in there but it changes when you have your own money.
Do you know, there are certain vehicles I CAN NOT DRIVE? Put me in a 350 Z and my head sticks out from the top. I can’t see the road through the bow! Even trucks give me a difficult time. Most Dodge trucks don’t fit. Forget any vehicle with a sunroof! That stupid thing cuts 2 inches of headroom out!
Then you have my favorite situation. Shopping. Not the act of shopping. Simply walking through a store is hazardous to my health. NO ONE EVER thinks about a person over 6 feet tall. All those banners and signs hung from the ceilings hit me right on the noggin. Then you have the fun of trying to find shirts for someone with a 37 inch sleeve and an 18 inch neck. Sure! Big and Tall shops have them. But every shirt I find would fit two of me in the chest. ACK! I spend $30.00 on the shirt and another 12 to get it taken in. (Thank you Mrs. Tran! You do such wonderful work!) Fortunately, my pants are not an issue!
SHOES???? OMG!!!! 13D should not be so difficult to find! When I do find something that will fit, the damn things look like gun boats. It kills me to spend half my day looking for a pair of shoes that look good and fit while not making my feet look like Bozo the Clown’s. When I do find them, I buy one in black and one in brown. If I can’t get them in both colors, Ill buy two of the same color. Its very hard to find shoes that look good and fit these days!
And then there is the meeting people and getting into the life style. Sure, most women will agree that a Tall HWP man is nice. But why are most women so NOT TALL!!!! I have only met a handful of women who are tall enough that I don’t have to pick them up to kiss them goodnight! Slow dancing look almost obscene with some of the women I have been with. I understand they look for a certain genetic stock in order to build upon their own, but geeze! Yes, I know! Mrs. CXXC is only 5 feet even.
My size has never really been an issue with regards to sex. It all seems to even out there. Well, there is the issue of the bed not being long enough. I had to wait until I was in my 20’s before I could afford to get a bed long enough so that my feet didn’t hang off the end! The bed I sleep in today is actually 7-1/2 feet long! CAN YOU IMAGINE MY JOY! I still wake up with a seam imprint on the side of my face each morning. Mrs. CXXC is a bed hog. That little package takes up a CALIFORNIA KING!!!!!!!!
SIGH! This is just one of those lamenting blogs. If I were only 4 inches shorter I could have been a fighter pilot. I could wear suits that didn’t need to be tailored so. I might even be able to buy off the rack. Shirts would fit, coats would cover my kidneys, gloves would actually fit like, well, gloves! Shoes! OH SHOES! TO DREAM!!!!!
I guess I will just have to give up. I just don’t fit!
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