I think I have a target on me this week. There must be something in the air that says, "Hey, I don't mind you invading my space. C'mon over!" It's not just one day; one day I can handle, but every single day this week (and it's only Wednesday). Monday and Tuesday's invasions were Cambus edition, as is usually the case when you put large quantities of people into a small, moving space. Yet, there are precautions I like to take to keep people out of my bubble, when possible. Monday morning was the worst, so far, with a trifecta of bubble invasion (physical, auditory and olfactory).
There is a woman who rides the bus to work every morning at the same time I do. Somehow she always manages to have her cell phone glued to her head. These conversations are usually regarding horses or tack. While I do my darndest to avoid listening, at that volume, it's hard to miss.
Anyway, back to Monday. It was another day of cell phone glue. With my luck, horselady was on my bus and ended up sitting right beside me. Actually, she sat on part of me and I moved. Then once we were both spacially separated (by an inch), she began bouncing her legs fevershly, shaking my seat. Of course, the cell phone conversation continued. But the third invasion of my bubble, and definitely the worst, is that she smelled like vomit and she was on her way to work. Ewwww. So as soon as that bus stopped, I bolted for the door and could still hear her talking 25 feet behind me.
Tuesday was another bus day. Only this one was partially my fault. I got on the bus that indicated it was going my way. What I failed to notice was that once I got on, the sign was changed and I ended up riding the nearly empty bus the entire opposite route until it looped back to its original position chocked full of International students. While I respect other cultures, the only thing I wish other cultures would respect about America is the use of deodorant on a regular basis. Worse yet, the guy who forced himself into the now very small space between me and another person, forced open his book to read in the now significantly smaller space, smelled of cigarettes. It wasn't recent smoke; no, it was the dingy I've smoked for 30 years scent.
Today's space did not take place on the bus, but in another small, cramped space--the elevator. After a super-fun lunch with BTK and Molly-fabulous, we hopped onto the elevator to head back to work. The next floor we hit caused an influx of about 8 very loud women, followed by a stop on a floor where housekeeping was waiting, but did not get on. One of the VL women made a comment about a lot of mops which resulted in, as BTK put it, a sonic boom of laughter from one particularly loud lady--twice. The next floor, a woman and what I perceived to be her husband carrying a flower. One of the VL ladies commented on the flower; I looked and may have made a polite smile because the man began talking to the other ladies, but reached up and touched my arm. Dude! Do not touch me uninvited! EVER!! Especially if you haven't known me for less than 15 seconds, if you don't know my name, and if I don't initiate any sort of interaction that would prompt you to touch me. NEVER! I freaked out (internally) and waited until we could make our exit. Once I got over the heeby-jeebies, 15 minutes later, rinsed my arms and hands with antibacterial goop, I moved on. But geez, people, stay out of my bubble!
In happy news, I get to hang out with wonderful people tonight for some excellent food (and beverages).
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