The parameters of personal space change depending on the context of the space. But one thing can be stated without doubt: Don't fucking touch me! Jeezus Christ, what IS IT with people?? I know, pointing out the meaningless annoyances of public transportation is so passe. We get it, people suck. Moving on.
But wait, I got more! The check out line in the grocery store... I fucking HULK OUT when the person behind me in line is up my ass. I stand there trying to figure out how many centimeters away that person's nose is from the back of my neck. In protest I slowly lean back and move backwards until I make contact and then I stay there forcing them to either deal with my body on theirs or move back a couple inches. I've been told it's a cultural difference, that in other countries the rules of personal space do not apply to waiting in lines. I don't care. I shop in Alexandria. Virginia. United States of America. Earth.
Calm down, I ain't hating on other cultures. I'm just a little steamed this morning because I made the mistake of getting into an argument with a southern conservative housewife regarding Lady Gaga and how she is or isn't the reason our society is in decay. Said southern conservative housewife made the mistake of bringing God into the discussion. I told her to stay away from Elvis. No I didn't. I took the high road.
Speaking of other cultures, I'm dying for a hot dog. From a hot dog stand. Gonna get one today, dammit.
3 comments:
Where did you run into a southern conservative housewife? This should make for some good Friday discussion...
You've been watching too much Breaking Bad, and reminded me of Mr. White with all your swears and ...wait, what the fuck why did your blog just reload while i'm writing this and is now playing the Predators Movie Series from ign.com - i know complaining about computer trouble is so passe but jesus christ this is the first break i've taken all week and your blog is now - gone. I'm done.
Dude, Breaking Bad is on AMC. There are no swears. Fucker.
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