As promised: So that's why weird men keep asking me out!

Okay, so I get that the amazing guys aren't attracted to me. That makes sense. But, up until yesterday I was still wondering why the casino worker/skirt wearer/sword collector/insert-weird-obsession-here type keeps asking me out. What made them think I was interested?
It's the forehead bow! Of course! I am just so short (pity me, please) that every guy over 5'3" thinks I'm giving him this through-the-lashes, I-want-your-trash (yay for Mark's ever-growing list of confusing euphemisms) smoldering look while we talk when all I'm doing is saving my neck from the inevitable crick it would get if I tilted my head back instead. Looking up to people all day kinda hurts, but not as much as high heels skidding on ice, so I'll be doing it regularly for at least another month. Once I can wear heels again, I'll be equal enough with half the girls and a quarter of the guys if I stand back far enough. That's also another problem I noticed—I can only establish oh-so-important eye contact with most people if we are sitting a foot apart or if we are standing three feet apart. Get closer than that and the connexion's gone.
Like I told Jessica, inertia is a lot easier than trying to create a relationship. So is collecting cats and naming them after all the guys I wanted but never touched. Until then, I maintain my right to blame all my problems on my height and to justify any special treatment of women with the fact that women are the ones who have the babies.