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From schoolyard taunts to dating a man of the tallest order, Arianne Cohen chronicles life from on high.
I was once, I believe, one half of America's tallest couple. We met in Germany, where Alan, seven feet two, expressed his romantic interest by following me around, an experience not unlike having a helium balloon attached to my belt loop. Whenever I glanced up, there he was, offering to walk my six-foot-three self two perfectly safe blocks, or suggesting a fourth meal. On our first date, the waitress seated us, and the entire restaurant stared.
We had nothing in common. He was a 37-year-old titled British orphan; I was a decade younger, a writer ...