As I stood in the crowd at the bar with my best friend, waiting to place our drinks order, I heard it…A deep voice, accompanied by a heavy lisp…
“Rah, you’re tall!”
Being that this was my second time hearing this today, I turned sharply to face whichever idiot was running their mouth this time, and found myself looking down at a guy who was eye-level with my breasts.
Looking at the excitement on his face, I wondered if he truly believed some great unknown had been discovered, somethingthat I had missed.
“You Intimidated by my height, likkle man?” I said, sending the three guys beside him into a fit of laughter. His face quickly flooded red, embarrassed that I had fired back at him. I rolled my eyes and turned back to face the bar, smiling at a girl nearby who nodded reassuringly.
That should show him. Who the hell did he think he was, stating the obvious but making such a spectacle about it. Trying to embarrass me? It was hard enough being a tall woman, without having insecure men like him trying to make a joke out of me.
Despite my fiery comeback, his comment had kinda soured my mood for that evening. I couldn’t shake the thought of his words, but this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to me, and probably wouldn’t be the last.
My mum and the aunties were pressuring me every day. “Make more effort with people”
“ You must find a partner, you’re not getting any younger!”
“Why are you not going on dates, you must date!”
My brothers would tell me, “you’re too much, men don’t like that.”
Well, maybe, I like being too much. I won’t be “too much” for the right man…
***
Tonight, is date night, the first in nearly five years. A date set up through a friend of a friend.
I made mental nots to myself – “Must remember the non-negotiables, the red flags. Must put best foot forward, be self— best self, better self.”
I stood in my bathroom applying makeup that had been given to me by my bestie, makeup that I wouldn’t usually wear this much of but you know, tonight I’m “making an effort.” Mac, Kiko, Fenty, layer after layer.
Must remember eyelash tutorial I had spent the previous afternoon learning on YouTtube—oh the tutorials.
Must lay lace front, with extra baby hairs.
Tonight, I’m making an effort!
Swap out proud lace-less queen title, for mystical Mermaid— extra wavy, 26inch, colour 1B.
Must have picture- friendly outfit, I should get forty likes from this outfit. It cost £30 but with the fake designer bag, it could pass for £3000? How would they know?
Finally, must wear flats – not heels, so I don’t seem “too tall”,preferably the red bottoms. Must make good first impression, must stride confidently, efficacious smize, Tyra Banks who?
I saw him sitting by the bar as I entered the restaurant, so went over to him. I had changed into my heels just before leaving the house as I felt like that was more me.
“Hi, nice to meet you, my name’s—”
“Rah, you’re mad tall innit? I thought I was tall. How tall are you? And you’re wearing heels too? You’re doing too much…That’s mad, you’re too tall.” He said, laughing and giving me a quick hug.
Was this his lame attempt at flirting? Or is this hisintimidation trying to dull my shine. Who knows, better yet, who cares?
We quickly got seated at our table, where I proceeded to order a three course meal, consisting of the most expensive items I could find, plus a bottle of champagne. I reassured him with a painted-on smile that id cover myself, id never dream of making him pay for it all. The starters arrived; I took a few bites before excusing myself to the bathroom.
I left the bathroom and stood behind a massive plant near the hostess stand, watching as he checked his watch, wondering where I was. I watched as the waiters brought out the main course, chuckling to myself as I walked out of the door.
I blocked him on the way home and curled up on the sofa witha takeaway and a bottle of wine under some blankets.
Shoulders back and posture stark upright, polish my Louboutins with his tears so they stay shiny on the outside. Back on the shelf we go.
Tell me I’m too much!
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