I’m in line at the bank this morning and the following scenario takes place (as it does later at CVS and Trader Joe’s):
I’m patiently waiting in line and a guy enters the line behind me, close behind me. I take a subtle step forward and brush it off as his human-to-human space ratio may be off for the moment. It happens. No big deal. The line loses a person and we all take one step forward like mindless sheep. Once again, cowboy behind me moves in pretty close. Ugh, he’s one of those. I take another step forward and try to position my purse in a way to create a safety zone around my back, but my purse isn’t one of those trendy pieces of luggage-purses, and so it’s of no help. The guy takes another step. So I turn around, flash a passive-obvious (the word makes sense to me) look at him, and take a step forward. He steps forward too. It must’ve been the passive part of my obvious look that he doesn’t understand. I mean, we’re sharing a lung at this point. I wish I had the balls to turn around and say, Hey, halitosis, the fumes from your sausage and cheddar grits breakfast are sticking to the back of my neck. Would you take a yardstick or four steps back from me already? Thank you!…God bless. But I don’t. Instead I decide to download The Police’s Don’t Stand So Close To Me on my cell phone so that the next time this happens, I will hold it up a la John Cusack and his boombox in Say Anything. But I won’t do that either. I’ll just come home and write about it. 🙂
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