“It must be nice to be as tall as you are” the check out clerk said to me this evening. I was doing my grocery shopping on my dinner hour – I put the perishables in the fridge up here in the office. “I wish I was. How tall are you, anyway?”

“I’m about 5ft 10 without my shoes and I guess I’ve got an inch heel on” I said, checking my feet. “I think it would be good if I were graceful. But I’m not.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re all right” the clerk assured me. But she hasn’t seen me in action.

No sooner did I get back to the office then I went clattering down the hallway carrying my bags and ran smack into a man coming the other way. I suppose he carries some blame, because he wasn’t looking where he was going. He was looking off to his left down another hallway or something. Not only am I as tall as an average man – indeed, I was about 4 inches taller than this man - I weigh as much. But men don’t wear pointy toed heels, so they’re able to change course more easily than I am. That’s a lotta SomeWingedCreature to run into in the hallway, to say nothing about the groceries.

Luckily, he had a “beer belly” so it acted like a bumper and we just sort of bounced off of each other. Several squash escaped the bag and just rolled on down the hall.

“Oh my God!” he said, in that way men have exclaiming which makes me feel like they’re looking for my helmet. You know, the one from the Wagner opera with the valkyrie horns or wings on the sides?

“I’m so sorry” I said, “ I couldn’t stop in time.” Hint. You were not looking frontward at ALL

“No,’s my fault” he muttered. I went to retrieve my squash. He held the elevator for me.

During the longest elevator ride of my life I realized that I am pretty sure he is the guy in charge of the department where I recently applied to transfer.

There are days when I just hate my life.