Personal Space

We like crowds. Crowds make us happy. Hooray.

At work, a group of us were talking about crowds. M16 expressed a dislike of big crowds because it's impossible to move your arms around without slapping somebody.

Personally, I find it hard to believe that M16 doesn't like slapping people. Maybe I'm just projecting my own hobbies onto him. Oh well.

In any case, there was general agreement. After all, "personal space" is a normal thing for most people. Even so, I made a note.

None shall refract

Later that day, our newest employee (a gent who I'll call "Monty") had a light bulb go out over his desk. Naturally, this led to a debate about the merits of light over nerd cubicles.

"I like the lights on," I said. Monty agreed; he got the maintenance guys to come down and swap out his light. "I like the lights on," said SpanFan, "but not too bright."

"I like it dark," said M16. "Your cubical is too dark!", insisted SpanFan. "Naw, it's perfect." "I can't see my hand in front of my face in your cubical!"

I saw my opening. I walked briskly toward M16. He started backing up in his chair, eyes wide. I walked right into his cubical, right up to his chair, practically in his lap. Then I jumped back.

Personal Space Violation! Backpedal! Backpedal!

"Oh! Sorry, it was too dark. I didn't see you there."

The expected laughter was nice, but I knew I could do better with a nice callback to an earlier moment. "The best part," I informed everyone, "was seeing the look on his face as I invaded his personal space."

One of these days, he's gonna hit me.