Monday, July 11, 2005

Scene 2: Walmart

In the pharmacy aisle.. searching for scar cream (no, not for the inner ones.. they don't make a cream for those). I see a sweet-looking pharmacy tech and ask where the Mederma is..

Sweet-looking old lady: Over here.. Oh my gosh, you're tall!
Me (eyes on the scar cream): I know.

Sweet-looking old lady: Wow, how'd you get so tall, your parents must be tall!
Me (eyes still on store display): 5'4" and 6'4"... (now annoyed at the compound question that assumes I'm tall because my parents are.. I foolishly turn to her and try to explain..)

Me: I probably would have been 5'10" like my sister, but I have Marfan Syndrome.. it's a connective tissue disorder.
Sweet-looking old lady: (Quiet, looks stumped.)

Me: Do you know what connective tissue is? It's everything that connects your muscles to your bones and holds your joints together. Mine is really stretchy, so I just kept growing.
Sweet-looking old lady: Oh my gosh, I'm sorry.

Sweet-looking old lady: Do you get asked how tall you are all the time?
Me: Yes, about every 5 minutes.
Sweet-looking old lady: Oh, I'm sorry.. Well, I wasn't asking just how tall you were, I wanted to know WHY you were so tall. (As if she suddenly realized how obnoxious people like her must be, but then felt the need to explain/distinguish herself.)

And then... she did the other thing people often do after they realize they've been rude - she started telling me all about the tall people she knows..

Sweet-looking old lady: My niece is only 13, and she's already as tall as me! (About 5'5", give or take an inch)
Me: (Not really impressed - I was 6'3" at 13). Wow, the kids nowadays sure are getting tall..

End scene.


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