Personal space invaders

So there’s apparently a whole science of the things that make up much of my pet-peeve list. It’s called proxemics, or the study of people’s perception of their personal space. Most of the things that annoy me about other people have a lot to do with their invasion of my personal space.

In the lead of this New York Times story, the writer touched on a big one, one that myself and a lot of my girlfriends are often troubled by on the subway: When men spread their legs too wide and impinge on my leg-room space. Another big one the story touches on: When people go to the bathroom in the stall next to you, when there are tons of other stalls empty. I am often troubled by the inexplicable, apparent desire of some folks to do their business right next to me, separated only by an inch and a half wide stall door, eschewing the option to poo or pee at least several feet away.

In New York, personal space is at such a premium that the city makes the perfect social scientific Petri dish for proxemics. Where else can you be right next to someone on a packed subway, touching them in a way that might be labeled sexual assault in another situation, and never even make eye contact with them? We’ve learned to cope with the 24/7, sardines-in-a-can feeling by coming up with coping mechanisms, such as reading the same subway advertisements over and over, staring at yourself and others in the reflection of the subway window, spacing out to your iPod, or pretending to be literary and reading the New Yorker.

I love the way this article ends: “In general most people understand the rules of personal space and heed the cues. Then again, the world is littered with clods. As Dr. Archer put it, people generally view personal-space rules in one of two ways: ‘the wrong way and my way.’”

Here’s what clods on my personal-space shit list do:

* Talk so close that they spit in my face, and don’t acknowledge that they spit on me even though we both can feel the saliva drying on my cheek.
* Stand so close in line behind me that when I inch up, they also inch up, even though I’m inching forward to get the hell away from them, not because the line is actually moving.
* Try to get in front of me when I’m standing on the street corner to cross. The only thing they are beating me at is getting swide-swiped by a cabbie.
* Constantly say “excuse me” to get past me and off the subway, even though I’m also getting off the same subway stop.
* Try to look at what I’m listening to on my iPod. For some reason, this bothers me more than reading over my shoulder because there’s something about your playlist that is more personal. (Though I admit I’m also guilty of stealthy iPod sneak peeks).