I am six foot three inches. She is just a little under four feet. I mean, we’re perfectly matched and we like each other, but I’m beginning to get tired of the jokes and the remarks. A friend of mine got drunk and said she was the perfect size for a beejay. What should I do?
– First, get some new friends.
– Go to Brazil, where there are lots of plastic surgeons who are used to adding a few inches to a woman’s height. No, you don’t send her to Brazil. You go and get a foot cut off your height.
-Or, you could grow up. People are different. People’s sizes are different. There are all kinds of people, but there are only a few people whom we can love. If this is a woman you love, it should not matter to you if she’s a bit vertically challenged. It should not matter to her if you’re a bit vertically challenged.
-Get real. What people say, that counts with you? Do these people feed you? It’s none of their beeswax, but they’re also free to laugh at anything they want. Get a thicker hide and enjoy the woman before she walks away from you, saying something like “you’re too tall for me”. (How would that feel, huh?)
My best friend from college breezed into town and suggested we take off from where we left off. I laughed and said I’d be delighted. We met, and suddenly his hand is on my thigh and he’s getting jiggy with me. We didn’t have this kind of relationship in college, so I walked away and didn’t answer his calls or his texts or his emails, and he’s left again and that’s that. But, I am a little sad. I mean, how could he have possibly misread the situation so badly?
The greatly amusing thing about your missive is that it is impossible to tell whether you are a man or a woman. It shouldn’t matter at all, since we all know men can be attracted to men, but it’s fun to wonder whether you’re outraged because your friend turned out to be gay or that he turned out to be turned on by you when you were not turned on by him. Or, whatever.
But, really, it doesn’t matter, does it? He wrote and said you two should take up where you left off. Do you remember where you left off? Perhaps it was a joke: something like, you know, we could have been something more than best friends… and then you both laughed. He remembered, you forgot.
Perhaps, he mixed you up with someone else.
Perhaps, he was just working something out, thinking, I should have asked, I should have seen whether my buddy would sleep with me because there were times I so wanted it.
It is your reaction that is interesting. You were right to walk away if you think it was an invasion of your personal space, for sure. No question of that. But, if you were in a public place and not in any direct danger of this thing getting more intrusive, you could have lifted his hand off your thigh and said, “That’s not where we left off,” and he could have then explained what he thought you two were doing there. Instead, you walked away and cut all communication off. Your choice, of course, but you don’t seem particularly happy with your decision, or why bother to write in?
Sorry, but you’re going to have to figure this out. And, you don’t even have to be nostalgic about it because you know what he looks like now. And, you know he’s the kind who simply reaches for what he wants. Are you?
I’m going to be 50. I don’t want to be 50. Should I get some botox, some Viagra, some muscle implants?
You should do anything you want to do. You should clear it with yourself, not with someone else, not even if it is such a knowledgeable sage as Dr Know. You should know that all these manoeuvres are not without their social cost. You should know that to many people this is an announcement: I am going to be 50, I don’t want to be 50.
Instead, why not say to yourself: the 50s are the new 30s? Instead, why not get some actual muscle tone by hefting some weights or running a marathon? Why not laugh so much that your laugh lines just vanish into the glow of your smile? Why not power up your imagination and see how aphrodisiac that is?
Okay, stop laughing sarcastically. If you think those things will make you happier, go for it and let us know how it works out. We like stories like those.