When I wash my hands in public restrooms I have to bend in order to reach the running water. This makes me feel envy toward short people, for whom the heights of sinks are conveniently placed, and irritation that no equal consideration is made for the tall.
At five-foot-ten I am not exceptionally tall, and yet I live in a world that doesn’t fit. I have to lean over to reach many things, such as desks, dining tables, and counter tops. In some public restrooms I have to stoop uncomfortably in order to use electric hand dryers.
To make it worse, my height comes from my torso. My legs are average length, but my torso is unusually long. While sitting, I tower over others, and slouch to be on their level. I slouch to drive, slouch to reach arm rests, and have a hard time finding tops that are long enough, or one-piece bathing suits that come up all the way over my chest. Continue reading “Long Torso Lament”
Sixty Something 