I’m a chick, and I do that kinda thing in public all the time. I may have picked it up from my 6’7" brother, but I don’t think he does it anymore.
I used to do it all the time just to see what I could do. Now that I’m 28 I know how high I can jump so don’t do it anymore. Now if I was hanging around some guy friends I might do it as a competition.
JUmping story. Way back when I was 11 I did that in Disneyland outside the 360° theater. I jumped up and touched the roof and came down feeling pretty good about myself to hear some sarcastic clapping behind me. Turned around to find some bitter guy in a wheelchair. I’ve never felt guilty and pissed at the same time before.
Hey, leave our “jumping up and hitting things” habit alone. You girls got the multiple orgasms, we get to jump up and hit things.
That, and the spitting, which I believe there is already another thread about.
Osris, the guy was an asshole.
Anyway, on to my story… As a kid, my little sister drove everyone in the family crazy when she was going through cheerleader tryouts and basketball tryouts at the same time. If she wasn’t running around the house doing a layup on every door around then she was travelling from one room to another doing jumping jacks and saying "Two bits, Four bits… ":rolleyes:
E3
To show how mighty we are.
Osiris, I concur that the wheelchair guy was a tremendous prick. An 11-year-old child * should * feel full of life. What does he want you to do–feel ashamed that you * can * jump and he can’t? If he had the use of his legs, he’d do it too, and no one would make him feel guilty about it. Should the blind begrudge the seeing and sarcastically clap as they walk out after seeing a movie? Should the deaf sarcastically applaud as patrons leave a concert hall because they have the sheer nerve to hear music? And to make an * 11-year-old * feel that bad is inexcusable.
When we were young, we (my two brothers and I) were big-time doorway-touchers. My brothers were older, so they could do it far before I could (I was small for my age, too). For me, then, touching the doorway, and later, the ceiling, was a sign that I was finally getting old/big enough to hang around with them, and that I was no longer a little pipsqueak.
Mom hated having to clean all those dirty fingerprints off of the doorway and ceiling, though…
I’m trying to figure out the mystery of the dirty SHOE PRINT above the inside elevator door at the building where I work. Were they holding the sides of wall and kicking up? Geez…
But back to the OP…
Most likely the GF/wife said “jump” and the guy said, “how high”.
I had a big complex about my height as a kid, being shorter than most of the other kids, so I would often run and jump to touch high objects just so that I could prove to myself and others that I wasn’t quite so short after all. After getting laughed at for still not being able to touch some things I resigned myself to being recognized as being one of the last people to know when it’s raining. FTR, I’m 5’4" (168cm if my metric conversion is correct).
Jumping is fun. Jumping towards a target–and hitting it–is even better. Even more better is hanging off something once you jump up to it.
On occasion, I hold walls, the backs of chairs, etc. and kick. Just to see how high I can get without falling over and breaking my neck. Don’t usually hit the wall, though; I just kick the air.
You must be at least >–< this tall to be a studmuffin.
Because we make sure no one’s watching, first.
Because they’re too short to just grab it in their teeth and shake it back and forth like a rag doll.
Depending on the doorway, this may have had a lot more significance than your general tag-the-awning feat. On military bases, there are the occasional “Through this door pass the greatest …” signs above doors, and it is often part of a good luck ritual to touch it on your way to a mission. The astronaut corp is very into this kind of motivational team-building, so there may have been something significant above that door that you couldn’t see.
Because we can.
Because it’s there.
Because the natural shape of a male life (and sensibility) is sinusoidal, characterized by countless arcs reaching up and an equal number of downturns. We jump, because we want to go out on a high moment: we’re wired to thrill at the thrust toward the goal, not the pulling back from it. In contrast, the natural shape of the female sensibility is not linear but is volumetrical, so that women are focused on growing things, on the nurturing of events/ideas/relationships so that there will be something there, something substantive, warm, and comforting to rest on, enjoy, and connect with.
To the extent there was ever a General Question here, does one remain?
See, everyone? Manhattan likes my answer so much that he’s ready to close the thread! Someone please second the motion. Can I get an amen? 
If I may continue this brief hijack, when I was 13 I went to the CircleVision Theater at Walt Disney World. As I stood watching the movie (there were no seats), some mother complained to me that I was blocking her child’s view.
It’s a 360-degree movie!!! :mad:
Sorry I took so long in answering, sure you can have it I’m flattered by your choice.
