Personal Space

by Charles Miller on October 28, 2002

One of the surest ways to get on my nerves very, very quickly, is to touch me. I have this very strong sense of personal space, and strangers touching me just makes me cringe.

I don't mind the normal, incidental contact that's a part of living in a big, crowded city. When the train's full, I'll sardine myself in with the rest of them. But on the other hand, I tend to only shake hands when it's necessary. In family gatherings, I'm the one standing at the back trying to avoid having to hug a thousand people I only see every five years. And I absolutely loathe having a conversation with someone who feels it's necessary to put their hand on your arm to emphasise whatever point they decided to make. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

Exceptions are made for close friends, family, or people I'm attracted to.

Well, the Caesar salad was nice, even if I did get progressively more and more annoyed as the evening progressed.

Previously: One of those days

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