One night last week, just after I got off the train, I crossed the street from the platform to the sidewalk. There were three teenage girls walking down the sidewalk from the perpendicular direction and in order not to bump into them I had to pause for a moment before stepping on the curb. As we passed the girl closest to me looked at me and said: "Hi. You're tall." Without skipping a beat I replied, "Thank you," and kept walking.
I chose to interpret a simple statement about the one aspect of myself over which I have absolutely no control—my height—as a compliment. It seemed nicer than agreeing, "Yes, I am," which may have come across as condescending.
Never let it be said I don't know how to connect with the younger generation.