Is That All You Got?

“Lily, you need to come over here right now.”

I stared at the unfamiliar phone extension on my display. It was my boss, her voice was urgent.

“Ummm…okay Jane. Where is ‘over here?’”

“Just come over here near my desk.”

“Okay.” I hung up the phone and rushed to the other end of our office trying to think which one of my clients blew up and how I was going to fix it. I turned the corner and was greeted by the sight of people standing with my boss around what looked to be an appliance. Everyone kind of turned around at the same time when I got there.

Before us stood a four foot refrigerator that had been donated for a fundraiser we were having at work. I knew immediately why I had been called over. Hands on hips, I rolled my eyes and waited for it.

“Look Lily,” Jane smirked, “It’s your refrigerator. It’s the perfect height.”

The group giggled and I took my medicine like I always do: With a snappy retort. “You honestly called me all the way over here to make fun of my height? Don’t we have better things to do?”

ShortPronunciation: 'shortFunction: adjectiveEtymology: Middle English, from Old English sceort; akin to Old High German scurz short, Old Norse skortr lack1 a : having little length b : not tall or high : LOW
(Compliments to Merriam-Webster Online for the definition)

I prefer the term short. I absolutely despise the phrase “vertically challenged.” There is nothing challenging about being short that a step stool can’t fix! I have no problem with my height, mostly because I can’t change it. I come from a family where the tallest person is no more than 5’6”. Filipinos aren’t known for their height. So I gratefully accept my genetic lot in life. At a towering 5’0”, I try to walk through life as if I were a foot taller.

Yeah, I’m the mini-Doberman Pinscher that thinks she’s a full sized one.

Being short, the bane of my existence (as shown above) is the “Short Joke.” But it’s not what you think. I loooooove a good short joke. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a pretty sarcastic person myself. I even make fun of me! My problem is the lack of variety. My response to a height remark is usually “Is that all you got?”

It’s like that scene in the movie, “Roxanne” with Steve Martin. Martin’s character, C.D. Bales is blessed with a rather large nose. Okay, who are we kidding; we could use the nose in a game of horseshoes. Bales, like me, accepts his cosmetic issue. In what has to be one of the funniest scenes on film, Bales is verbally accosted by a bar patron with a weak “big nose” remark. He then proceeds to rattle off 25 BETTER big nose jokes, much to the chagrin of the heckler and the laughter of the other bar patrons.

My point is…you wanna go with me? You’d better go big (pun intended).

Dwarf, midget, Oompa-Loompa, Keebler Elf, pygmy, fairy, or munchkin remarks? Weak.

Step ladder jokes? Cliché.

Holding things at a level where I have to jump up and reach them? Trite.

Ankle biter comments? Pffft.

A car seat joke? Now THAT’S funny.

I’m a heckler by nature. I know that my height is an obvious target. But I expect more out of the people who taunt me. The thrill of the kill in heckling is the comeback. And it’s just not satisfying for anyone to comeback on something like “Can you even ride the roller coasters at Disneyland?” It’s like beating a four-year old in a game of one-on-one in hoops. Sure you won, but do you really want to be known as the guy who demolished a toddler?

So, would-be hecklers, make sure you come correct. It takes a lot to hurt my feelings, but sub-par taunting is one way to get the pissy look on my face. And just remember the cardinal rule: Karma is a bitch. If you choose to take on my height, I will go after your age. Or your receding hairline. Or your obsessive compulsive nature. Or that outfit your wearing.

You can’t smart ass a smart ass and not expect to hear about it. Oh and you’d better trust me…you WILL hear about it.