Give me space – man!
Conga line dance, Albert Hall, Canberra – circa 1960s
I don’t know about you, but I have an invisible space that stretches out about an arm’s-length from my face. I keep this space between myself and people I don’t know. It is my ‘personal space’.
If I’m speaking to someone I don’t know and they move into this space I usually move back slightly. Most normal humans understand this shift in body language and comply. If I can smell their bacon and egg breakfast, I move back even further. If they spray when they speak, the distance is widened.
Why, oh why, don’t people at supermarket check-outs understand this?
You’re not going to get your groceries to the car any faster by doing the Conga line dance with me! If I take a step back and head-butt your nose or squash your big toe with my heel, don’t complain – it means you are too close! If your trolley hits me in the Achilles tendon, please don’t be surprised if I swear loudly because this kind of pain automatically produces four-letter-words.
Supermarket check-outs are not like parties or concerts where loud music brings us closer and they are not ‘personal’ moments where I enjoy sweet nothings whispered in my ear about your preference to apples over bananas!
Rant over 
Is it just me – or do you dislike people invading your personal space?
Oh personal space invasion irks me. And people who it DOESN’T irk, do seem to like hanging around stores! Why, oh why, do they think that standing half an inch behind me is logical? Weirdos….
Hahaha – they are weirdos!
And they always seem to find you when you’re grumpy!
DEFINITELY not just you. What gets my goat the most is men on buses or trains who insist on sitting with their legs so widely spread that I end up flattened against the window or sitting in the aisle. I guess I’m always going to take second place to their testicles’ personal space. Such is life.
HAAAAAA! Love it! But isn’t that true for everything they do?
Dianne–Therre are good rants and bad rants. That’s a two thumbs up rant.
Aw – thank you so much, Dennis!
You’re not the only one! I’m really picky when it comes to personal space, even with family and friends, let alone complete strangers. People who spray or have bad breath are the worst. =[
Hahaha – I hate the sprayers!
I don’t like people invading my personal space that’s why I try not to invade theirs. But you know people usually take a mistake in this action, the say I’m way too ignorant. Yeah different culture here in our eastern country
Thanks for coming by and commenting. Nice to hear from you
And then there are the huggers. There aren’t that many people I enjoy being hugged by–and some of them are so tall! And I love your photo! Perfect.
Thank you! Random huggers are the worst! but then there are the kisses (YUCK!)
We have a more or less wide personal “bubble”, that sometimes we are forced to reduce, when we are all packed up in the tube for example as we have no other choice. But man, how uncomfortable it feels, especially when the peope around you smell, or worse, touch your hand, I totally empathise with you!
This is so true – it never occured to me that our bubble can become bigger or smaller depending on where we are
Thank you so much for commenting
Oh yes, hate it. I get very cranky and am not backwards in showing my distaste for their invasion of my own little world. There is a mother of a little boy that plays with my son, she has no understanding of this space. She comes so close she actually touches and I had to tell her a few months ago to stand back. She was extremely offended. .
Oh dear! She shouldn’t have been offended – she was too close! Good on you for speaking your mind and not just constantly steeping back
Well done!