You Will Love Me Because I am Tall, Period

(This is a satirical dating profile from my book, Fake Personal Ads (Or Real Personal Ads for Fake People).)


You Will Love Me Because I am Tall, Period

You silly girl, do I even have to write a damn dating profile after having listed my height at six-foot-five? The fact is that you will love me for no other reason except that I am taller than an NBA-ready giraffe, or that you will stay in love with me for no other reason except that a TALL man makes YOU look good in public. Your true goal, far above having a husband that actually gives a shit about you, is to have awestruck ladies, the competition, ask you “So how tall is your boyfriend?” — while you assume the egomaniacally shit-eating grin of a no-talented diva twirling about on the red carpet at the Oscars — and answer, “Oh, six-five.” In a word, I am the ultimate accessory, just ahead of diamond earrings, 5-K Run T-shirts and  full-arm tattoos — and without me as your beau, you are just another gal trying to impress people with how you and your friends had a blast on a recent Caribbean cruise and how the crew on the boat will not soon forget you crazy girls, though, in reality, the crew already forgot about you with the arrival of next week’s standard group of hokey girls from Tennessee. You will love me for one reason and one reason only, because I am TALL, period.

Your obsession with wearing high-heels is more important to you than the actual man, which is fine with me, since I, too, am shallow, if not more superficial, as evidenced by how I could care less about what lies below the surface, unless it be the nachos below the cheese. Therefore allow me to laugh to the point of superior tears when noticing that shorter girls desire my towering height more than do taller girls, though, let’s be real, the juxtaposition of my six-five to your five-two makes us look like a damn freak show, which is all the more laughable when looking down to see your worshipful face mounted on your craning neck. Of course, the sex — well, the logistics are less than congruent, not unlike a grizzly bear trying to mount a Chihuahua. But, hey, you would rather forgo a great, comprehensive sex life done in private in exchange for your greater need to receive public acclaim on an hourly basis by having the Empire State Building for a boyfriend.

I will never lift any of my long fingers for you, since, well, I really don’t have to do anything for you except be TALL, which, hey, requires only that I stand at your side thinking about my fantasy football team. If you wanted a man who dotes on you, strives for you, writes you love songs, cooks for you, adores you, makes you laugh (out loud), then you would be with a short guy, since they HAVE to try harder to woo the ladies. But we, my semi-love – I being your total-love – will just mock that poor, groveling chump. The hilarious fact is that you will stretch and bend the very laws of commonsense to attribute to me a noble quality that does not exist, even on a molecular level, within my arrogant persona, yet you will totally ignore a veritable Gandhi/Romeo/Einstein/Jerry Seinfeld if he comes packaged in a five-foot-six frame.

Yes, you will love me because I am TALL, period.


(To learn more about my book, Fake Personal Ads, or my three other books and two screenplays, visit my website: )

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