tall tales

So Carly and I are getting off the Hynes stop on the Green Line this afternoon, and she's actually saying something about not having much bizarreness in her life lately. I was starting to tell her that I have no such luck because I always seem to be a freak magnet.

As if to prove my point, at that moment a woman approached and told us that we were so lucky to be tall, and how tall is my mother? She kept saying how fortunate we were and that, "You guys HAVE IT! I WANT it, but you guys HAVE IT!" If I'd only known what it was, maybe I could've given it to her so she'd go away. Then she proceeded to tell us that in the Bible it says that the Virgin Mary is statuesque, just like us, and that she is exceedingly holy, just like us, and that EXCEEDINGLY means TALL. She asked if we were sisters, and then asked how tall Carly's mom is. Armed with this irrelevant information, our new friend continued to marvel at our luck, our height, our fair skin, our divinity. She was pretty regular person-looking too, like she was just heading off to meet a friend, or disciple, for dinner or something. We told her to take care and continued on our path of righteousness.

Then later a guy on the street handing out information about scientology looked at me, looked away, and then gave a pamphlet to the guy next to me. Apparently one's person deity is another person's lost cause.