Monday, April 17, 2006


I Have a Very Large Personal Space, and when it gets violated on a regular basis, I get very, very, very, very, VERY cranky.

Currently, we have a volunteer at work and like everything else unpleasant in our program, she has become my responsibility. I like to consider myself culturally competent -- and she was raised in a place and culture where personal space is by necessity, much smaller. BUT -- if she doesn't stop standing on top of me, stop reading over my shoulder, and start taking altoids... I may go postal.

But far more insidious than the uncomfortable proximity of our volunteer, is the intentional full court press of the lurker with the fragile ego. Any woman who has spent any amount of time in public has met this man. He is far worse than the aggressive ass-grabber, who usually wanders off in search of easier prey when confronted with a firm "Hey man, hands off!" No, this passive -aggressive, pencil prick can't stop "accidently" bumping into you. And when you confront him, he denies it all, everytime -- calls you a bitch and worse WILL NOT GET OUT OF YOUR PERSONAL SPACE, which in my case, as I mentioned, is very large.

By the way, the guy I mention also stuck his finger (which he then licked) repeatedly into the gorgeous creamy centers of about a half dozen deviled eggs I made -- rendering them inedible. Kwame threw the rest away to prevent a pandemic of icky cooties. So I conclude with one word of advice to said person,

"Dude -- hire all the lawyers you want. No jury is ever going to make your ex-fiance pay you back for the wedding deposit."

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