Space Invaders
I went to dinner last night at the Outback Steakhouse with a friend of mine, Lisa, and her friend, Christy. Now, I had met Christy before, but she was seated well away from me at the time. Last night, she sat right next to me, and I was quick to discover she has no concept of personal space whatsoever. I have a personal space of about 12 inches, anything closer and I start to feel a tad constricted. Christy has no such qualms about personal space. She sat down, squashed her butt up next to mine, ran her hand up my thigh to make a point when she was talking, and she had a fixation with touching my chest. I felt like I was being groomed by a chimpanzee. Usually when a completely unknown female starts pawing at me, I've just placed a dollar in her underwear. Now, Christy is a very good looking female creature, so I was torn by feeling uncomfortable at times, to envisioning myself in a softcore porn movie starring just Christy and myself. I've encountered such space invaders many times during my life, and I simply can't understand why they insist on being so touchy-feely, as if they are pickpockets that just get really lost in their work. You see, when I'm trying to eat pasta, I find it's easier to do without having my chest patted in mid-conversation. It was like eating with Helen Keller.
Stumble It!
