In The Eyes Of A Giant

There is a permanent bias towards tall people. For short people and/or fat people, people are quick to get on a high horse when you call out the obvious. But giants get no such protection. I am always getting roasted for being tall like it’s a bad thing. Talking about “you’re tall for nothing”. How about you? What’s your excuse for being the same size as a side stool?

Joseph: How tall are you?

Gottfried: 6’5

Joseph: Do you play basketball?

Gottfried: Nope

Joseph: What a waste! How can you be that tall and not play basketball?

Gottfried: Do you play mini-golf? No? But here we are.

Yes, the rumours are true, the air up here is a lot fresher. One of the upsides of being a giant, away from being able to reach the top shelves at supermarkets (subtle reminder we’re not obligated to assist you), I also get to breathe fresher, unadulterated air. No guessing why brief people are constantly making a fuss, their nostrils are clogged.

I am not your selfie stick. If I do choose, out of the magnanimity of my good heart, I could take charge of selfies. If I’m not feeling it, leave me alone, nobody asked you to come here a minion. Oh and yeah, when you “play” punch me, it actually hurts. Being huge doesn’t reduce the pain. One of these days I’ll hit back and land you in the hospital.

I’ll start charging for hugs. There’s a common misconception that giants are your life-sized teddy bears. Kindly shelve that idea. It does help if you smell nice though, so replace your deodorant and we’ll see. I’ll tell you this though, I’m tired of people hugging my tummy. Can you guys like “grow up”?

I get tired too. For my little nieces and nephews, if I’ve carried you once, I can’t do it ten more times, don’t be a little shit. For the older folk, the same applies, the last thing on my mind is to carry y’all on my back. I remember this one time I scored a match-winning goal for my Department and the entire bench ran onto the pitch to celebrate with me. I found myself under a pile of close to twenty bodies. Long story short, I nearly died that day.

My dress sense isn’t off. You don’t just know the struggle of finding items of clothing and shoes that fit. Don’t be that asshole that’s counting the number of my outfits. Talking about “you like this shoe oh”. My friend, it’s my only shoe, shut up. I have to make all my shoes, plus they cost a fortune. It’s not that I planned to look homeless, it’s the market.

There are many positives to being a giant. You can randomly give someone a knock during a parade and they’ll never guess it’s you. But know this, Giants are some of the kindest, warmest, most caring and all-around welcoming people you’ll ever meet. The idea isn’t really to talk down on you, it’s just how it is. It does help that people “lookup” to me and I promise to not disappoint.

Get yourself a giant

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