We met at the Ground Round. Beforehand, I had done my usual screening: how old are you, how tall, etc. He told me he was 5’6”. Not ideal since I tend to like taller men, but I’m 5’2”, so I figured I’d give it a shot.
He got there first and was already sitting when I arrived, so I didn’t notice anything right away. We had a drink, ordered some food, and chatted about life. Things were fine. After a bit, we decided to head to another bar in town.
I hopped down from my seat, and he followed behind me—still no clear read on his height. We drove separately to the Tap House downtown, and again, he was already there when I arrived. So once again, nothing seemed off.
As the night went on, we got into deeper conversation—family, work, all that. At one point, he tells me he’d like me to join his family business. On the first date. Bud… absolutely not. Also, I don’t like the circus.
Later, after a few drinks, he got up to use the bathroom—and that’s when I finally saw it.
This man was shorter than me.
Now look, I understand height isn’t something you can control. But lying about it? That’s the issue. It’s something that’s very obviously going to be noticed. Why even try?
We chatted a bit longer, but by then I was mentally checked out. Eventually, it was time to call it a night. As we walked to our cars, he leaned in to kiss me.
Whoa there, buddy.
First dates… you ask.
I know I might sound picky, but between the height lie and the unexpected pitch to join a traveling circus (apparently), I just don’t see “wrestling lions” fitting into my future.
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