I was imbibing at ‘Curmudgeon Corner’ last night still basking in the glow of Bonamassa enjoying the company of those attending the committee meeting, when Roger the Hairdresser appears.
Roger The Hairdresser is never invited…
Our meetings are generally held at the corner of the bar each of us occupying a seat with normal spacing that facilitates comfortable interchange. Roger the Hairdresser has little or no concept of personal space.
William James said “The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.” While I’ve not read anything about proper personal space etiquette, but I’m reasonably sure most normal people have a built-in sensor that rings an alarm either when they’re too close or if others are encroaching one’s personal space. Roger the Hairdresser has no such sensor and can no longer be overlooked.
Roger TH is very slight of build supporting his 5’ 6” 130 lb frame. He thinks nothing of sitting or standing should there be no seats available at the bar squeezing in until he overlaps your space! Even when there’s nobody else at the bar he feels comfortable sitting close enough to rub elbows and speaks to you inches from your face. These actions do nothing to dissuade the stereotypes that beset male hairdressers but seems oblivious to it. Not only is he invading my personal space, he repeats his bitter stories of divorce and political rants over and over and over and over………God save me!
I have on occasion moved from my seat to create room, but like a lost puppy he immediately moves next to me clueless as to why I changed seats. Nothing is worse than having Roger TH inching closer and closer until you’re pinned and can move no further!
I have from time to time calmly expressed my spacial displeasure to Roger TH but like an old woman, his feelings get hurt and for a time will sit apart from ‘Curmudgeon Corner’ giving all of us a respite from little Roger sitting in our laps. Yet….alas… he always returns tugging on one’s pant leg.
If you’ve seen ‘Seinfeld’ you may remember the “Close Talker” episodes. This is a good start, but really doesn’t capture Roger TH’s brushing up against you simply to be included in our conversations. It’s flat out creepy to me. For the two or three of you still reading this puny crack, he thinks nothing of inserting himself between two people he doesn’t even know—sticking his arm through the space then using his elbows he pries the rest of his tiny carcass in forcing the two unsuspecting patrons to accommodate him.
“This aggression will not stand!”
I suppose the only fair thing to do is to get animated about it and give him reason to pause prior to sitting next to me. Yet in thinking about the many times my experience at the bar has been tarnished because of this moron’s inability to comprehend personal space, I think it’s high time for a permanent separation! I’m just sayin.’