Some time ago I went to a chain restaurant (think of a fruit and honey-making insect) with my mother and sister. The food was good, the service was good, we had a fun time. We’re amicable people, and enjoy small-talk with waiters… well, my mum and sister do, I’m hard of hearing so I’m generally quiet. The only problem I had that day was with the waiter himself.
Perhaps I’m a little odd, but I have a rather large territorial bubble that I DO NOT like people violating. Even long-time friends have to give me my space or I get nervous.
This waiter wasn’t rude, he was well groomed, smelled nice, and attended to our needs wonderfully. But he was violating my territorial bubble!
We’d been seated at a booth, but I sat on a regular chair on the outside of the table (yes, my crazy bubble rules apply to even family members). My mum was jovially conversing with the waiter when he brought the check; he seemed to be enjoying himself. He was standing next to me, but I did my best to concentrate on my soda and be polite.
But he kept inching closer. And closer. Closer. I nearly fell out of my chair when I noticed the side of my face was barely an inch away from his stomach. Still trying to keep my cool, I remained in my seat and leaned over. Dear God, he kept moving closer! He didn’t seem to notice that he was seriously disturbing me. I kept leaning more and more over. My sister didn’t fail to notice my situation; she was muffling her laughter into a napkin, just watching the ordeal and waiting for me to freak out and launch out of my seat, screaming like a psycho… which probably would have happened if I had to endure my personal space being invaded much longer.
Fortunately I made it. I didn’t mortify myself, my family, or the waiter. He really was nice and good at his job, so I couldn’t be angry about him encroaching on my personal space and I didn’t want to be rude by, say, telling him to get the hell away from me or biting him. On his own accord he bid us a good day and left before I toppled out of my chair or had a psychotic episode.
My sister laughed long and hard when we left the restaurant. She told me the expression on my face was absolutely priceless–a look of sheer terror and anxiety, all whilst I was trying to nonchalantly sip my soda and lean sideways.
Now I sit inside the booths. I’d rather tolerate the intrusion on my personal space by a family member rather than a complete stranger… even if he is a wonderful waiter wearing expensive cologne.
- Sik
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