Monday, November 10, 2008

The Circles Don’t Intersect

There’s been a nagging feeling at the back of my head for the last few weeks, exacerbated when I think about Christmas. I assume this is because I hadn’t started shopping or even planning, and, if last year is anything to go by, the next six weeks are going to be gone in the blink of an eye. So Saturday, after receiving a tip from a neighbor, I headed to the local outlet mall in hopes of jumpstarting the buying.

As I closed in on hour five of dodging free roaming strollers whilst scanning the racks for those perfect somethings, I found myself in line at the very last store. This happened to be one of those stores that uses poles and nylon ropes to create one mega-line that feeds into all the registers; thus negating my incessant need to determine if I chose the best line. After a few moments, I sensed that the person behind me was standing strangely close. So, as soon as the person in front of me advanced, I stepped forward. Again, the gentleman behind me moved ridiculously close to me. So close, that as I executed a half turn (the universal signal for “that’s annoying”), the jacket that was folded over his arm brushed up against me.

While the line was admittedly long, it was single-file and the space wasn’t crowded. But every time I moved forward, he insisted on getting as close to me as physically possible. The jacket bumped me four more times. I tried ever-so-hard not to overreact, but I was tired, it was raining, and I have personal space issues. It was almost my turn to proceed to a register, when I felt something pull my purse. This time he had stepped so close to me that he had managed to wrap the hanger from something he was buying around the shoulder strap of my bag. I half looked over my shoulder and heard him mutter, “Sorry.” I am not the kind of woman to confront a stranger, but I found myself telling him that he really didn’t need to stand so close to me. I was a little taken aback by my behavior. I understand that different cultures have different standards around these things. I’d like to think if I was travelling abroad, I would have been fine with it. Go with the flow. When in Rome, etc. But here, in the outlet malls that make this nation great, I expect folks to play by my rules. AKA . . . don’t touch me!

4 comments:

Sandra said...

Amen to that! I hated when people violate my personal space, it drives me insane. Close talkers are also very annoying and strangers that touch me or my baby are just asking for trouble.

Hope you got all your Christmas shopping done.

Sandra said...

Forgot to tell you my strategy to keep people outside my personal space. I pretend to be sick. I start coughing, blowing my nose, etc. Just a few days ago, a man at the grocery store was about to touch David's face (I know, the nerve!) when I told him that my baby had a bad cold and I didn't want to pass on the germs... he jumped back so quickly... I loved it.

RobRoy said...

In LA I understand it's much more passive-agressive: they fire a warning shot in the air first.

daria said...

My mom would so freak out if I told her this story. This is the kind of thing she always warned me about when I was a kid. Scary man in mall getting too close = evil pervert.

Feigning illness is a great solution!