This is my dance space.

I have a genetic predisposition towards getting stuck in close proximity to less than desirable individuals. They may be smelly, touchy-feely, or any other version of annoying. At the movies, they are loud-talking, seat-kicking adults who should know better. Or even worse...confrontational pre-teens.

In fact, I'm on a plane right now and my preciously limited space is seriously being encroached upon. The man next to me would most certainly be offered a lude public bathroom stall service, judging by the wideness of his stance. His arm is slowly but surely creeping past his fair share of the arm rest, which I have chosen to not even touch. When he first sat down he gave me a dweeby smile that said "Hey new friend. Are you ready for some fun?" No. No. I'm not. We're not friends. Here, have some bitch-vibes.

Then he flipped the arm rest between us up and leaned into my space. Oh hell no. I require that barrier. I like to envision a germ-blocking forcefield directly separating my dance space from whatever strange human's I am unlucky enough to be assigned next to. If this man deactivates it, I will probably cry, sissy slap him until he scoots over, and then develop a severe case of whatever disease I happen to imagine him having.

I looked at the man like, "Uh. No." and then flipped it back down. We eyed each other awkwardly. Awesome. Now we get to share this yard of airplane for the next hour. I can't wait. Now please move your effing elbow back to your side. Thanks.

1 comment:

mon frer said...

Looks like I've passed another gift on to my sweet child. My apologies.