What's up world, I'm 5 foot 2!
I know I am a little on the short side, but short people have the right to get a story without being stampede victims.
Together with burly middle-aged journalists, I chased a government official around a hypermarket in the capital, and I got pushed around in the crowd.
Someone actually pushed me and sent me flying the the dairy section.
Despite the fact that I barely slept and I was still buzzed from last evening's wine and whining, I kept my composure and told myself that those people were not worth my attention.
So before I could collide with the labans and cheeses, I gracefully glided across the aisle with a smile.
I still got a story. Two soundbytes, lots of vox pops and a short piece to camera.
Without harming anyone or throwing a fit.
And as for those giants, they can stick their stories up their hairy asses.
Jerks.
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