He walked in, looked around and then must have thought there was a line up – he sat one chair apart from me! Did I say gentleman? I retract that statement forthwith, how on earth could he possibly be a gentleman when he invaded my personal space just like that?
Of course I had my laptop on my lap (it’s called a laptop, right?). I was doing “stuff”, while “invasion” was breathing my air.
What is it with people who have no concept of personal space? I shudder to think.
He really upset my equilibrium. Sadly, I couldn’t focus. My air was being diminished, right? He sat there comfortably doing “stuff” on his laptop, while I surreptitiously checked him out with my peripheral vision.
He seemed to be engrossed in his “work” – yeah right. I got up to fetch myself another glass of wine – they don’t serve champagne in the first class lounge, go figure…
Weird, you know that feeling you get when you know that someone is staring at you (your ass in particular), I was swiftly walking along to the wine cabinet when I realized I could feel the eyes on my behind. Suddenly I struggled to get my “sway” right. Don’t you hate that?
Sway, sway, miss a beat, sway… damn, sometimes I walk like a drunk woman – I swear it’s the new runners I was wearing. I kid you not those shoes are the new design that are meant to give you a full workout while you walk. It’s recommended that you only wear them for a short while every day – I wear them ALL day. Still waiting for the effect to take place – EXCUSE ME, it’s been a month already, what am I missing?
Anyway, so I get my wine and I sidle back to my chair and dumbnuts is still sitting right there in my personal space. It even looks like he could be “with” me. WTF? Surely I have the right to choose my “partner in crime”? But oblivious to everything, he continues to sit there and breathe my air.
A sip of wine, some Dutch courage and I turn to stare at him – only for a moment. Then I sigh and sink back into my chair, he refuses to take a hint. I’m now convinced he’s a computer geek. He has no interest in me, just that blasted computer.
Now I feel deprived. How dare he sit so close, breathing my air with no intension of striking up a conversation? After all, we are sharing air aren’t we?
Sip of wine, heavy sigh, back to computer “stuff”.
I’m on the road again!