It’s A Tall Order Accepting Lemon-Aid

(In the car dealership I work at we have a large station featuring multiple pots of complimentary coffee, hot water for tea and cocoa, and a large tank of lemonade. One of my smaller, more menial tasks is to refill the lemonade tank when it gets low. Please note that the tank is rather tall and sits atop a counter. I am a five-foot tall female.)

Me: *comes out of the break room with a large pitcher of lemonade for the tank*

Coworker: *sees me* “Woah, woah. You’re not going to try dumping that in there, are you?”

Me: “I do it at least three times a day.” *sets pitcher down and stands on toes to remove tank lid*

Coworker: “No! You’re too short!”

Me: *frowning* “Seriously, I do this all the time.”

Coworker: “You’re not tall enough.” *holding his hand up to his shoulder* “You must be this tall to ride this ride.”

Me: “I really can—”

Coworker: “YOU MUST BE THIS TALL.”

Me: “…”

(My coworker proceeded to fill the tank up for me, all the while making good natured jokes about my height (or lack thereof). Every time he saw me trying to fill the lemonade tank on my own, he insisted on doing it himself because I’m ‘just not tall enough for that ride!’)