I’m sure that almost everyone has or will be 4’11” at some point in their lives, but imagine if you were permanently stuck at that height.
That’s my story; everyday is a constant struggle in a world full of giants. I always have to look up at everyone and can never find shoes that fit me unless they have butterflies and velcro straps. I have been called names such as “short stuff,” “shorty” and “that really short girl.”
I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong. I started school at Wake Forest.
The steps are horrible. They are so tall and my teeny tiny legs can barely make it up the steps to the Pit or to my own dorm room.
While everyone else ascends and descends the stairs all across campus at supersonic speeds, I climb the steps as if I were climbing Mount Everest.
Seriously, where’s the elevator around here?
To make things worse, I got carded in the Pit.
It was a nice Wednesday afternoon, and I swiped into the Pit as usual. I walked over to the grill station to have some fries, and the nice woman working looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Um… 17,” I replied.
She looked at me in disbelief, as if I was lying to her.
She called one of her coworkers over to assess the situation.
“Are you in middle school?” she asked me.
Of course, I responded and said that no, I was indeed a college student.
“Let me see your DeaconOne Card,” she said.
I showed her my card, got my fries and went to sit down while the two workers laughed at my midget height. Confused, I started eating the lukewarm fries.
I didn’t know you had to be in college in order to get fries from the Pit; it’s not like I was at a bar or anything, just the SCHOOL CAFETERIA.
The steps and the Pit aren’t the only problems for little ‘ole me.
I had to buy a stool in order to get into bed at night. Of course, I could just lower the bed, but I just love having to locate my stool in the dead of the night.
During my search, I get to step on things, stub my baby toes and even trip and fall. It’s great, I promise.
Sometimes, when I drop things from my bed on accident, I attempt to get them. Because my legs are too short, this often results in me falling off the bed, head first and asking my roommate to help me get up.
The people on the quad rarely even ask me if I’m registered to vote. They just assume that I’m visiting Wake Forest on a field trip with my third grade class.
Being at Wake Forest at the measly height of 4’11” can sometimes be fun; the stores on campus stock my favorite chocolate milk and lunchables, which can also be a great conversation starter between me and the cashier.
Honestly, I’m looking forward to starting a club for short people only. Checkout “Carseat Crew” on Twitter or Facebook sometime within the next four years.