WHEN VICTORIAN MORALS AND BESTIALITY JOKES COLLIDE

In searching for an image of a giant man for that last post I hit a site called Postmark Press, which is run by a woman who works with images from old postcards. Hey, she's been on Martha Stewart Living, so it's more than just a hobby. There's lots of cool stuff there, including a postcard of a man who's very proud to live in Akron. And then there's this:

I'm still trying to get my mind wrapped around it.

Oddly enough it bears a striking resemblance to the DVD cover for Sleeping Dogs Lie, a Bobcat Goldthwait-directed movie that played Sundance under the name Stay and is apparently the as intelligent and insightful as any film about a youthful indiscretion involving an animal can be.

It's a terrible cover. But not, as it turns out, without precedent.

BABY, YOU'RE SAFE WITH ME:
OR, IT'S NOT EASY BEING BIG

I am, as anyone who has ever met me can attest, a big guy. I'm tall and not slender in the least. I'm pretty sure I give the impression that I could physically harm somebody although I've never thrown a punch in my life. Most of the time this works to my advantage. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've never had to throw a punch in my life is because I'm big. I think imposing might be the word I'm looking for here.

But being big has its costs. I like VW Beetles and Mini Coopers but I can never buy one. I like to sit on the aisle seat at movies so I can stretch my legs a bit. These are not tragedies. People assume I'm kind of dumb, even if only one persone, my roommate freshman year, has come out and said he thought I was dumb based on my appearance. That's also no tragedy. That's something I tend to use to my advantage.

But here's the other thing: I can scare people. Specifically women. Walking around, I'm always careful to keep my distance and act as unthreatening as possible. Most of the time it works. Sometimes it doesn't. Today, for instance, I was walking to my car behind a woman doing the same. It was broad daylight and there were other people around. Admittedly, the neighborhood our office is in can be a little sketchy. Maybe she'd had bad experiences before, I don't know. I was late, as usual, for picking Stevie up and for some reason this woman kept turning around to look at me as I drew closer. She looked slightly more panicked each time and even started to clutch her purse. Meanwhile, I figure the best way to deal with the situation is simply not to acknowledge it, make no eye contact, and just keep moving. I mean, what's the alternative? Say, "Hey, nice lady, I'm not going to hurt you." That's even creepier.

Why did the whole experience make me feel like I'd done something wrong? And would this have happened if I'd been, say seven inches closer to the ground?