How Men Meet

A Storyphoto

Ames is too tall. I’m 5’6” and he’s maybe 6’5”. I almost always feel short, but around him I feel tiny. Our friends at the gym tried to call us Moose and Midge, as in midget. I didn’t go for that.

It wasn’t personal with Ames—until he started hanging around me all the time. It’s not his fault he’s a giant. But he does talk too much. I’m on a schedule: I have to get through my gym routine and get going.

I tried changing the day I used the gym. It worked for a while, but then Ames appeared in free weights. So, I changed my hours. He showed up again.

Yes, I told him I need to exercise, not yak. He suggested we go for breakfast. I couldn’t do that; I had to get to work. “What about a drink after work?” was his next idea. I made up an excuse. That pissed him off. “How about this weekend?” he asked, glaring down at me. Fierce is a good look for him.

I stared up at him, thinking. I’m not dense, I figured out some time ago he’s interested in me. Should I tell him he’s just too tall? I hate it when guys tell me I’m too short—which they do. So, I said okay to dinner on the weekend.

I wonder how it’ll work in bed.