IN MY LIFE they’re few things that I cherish dearly; family, God, kidney bean stew and personal space. I can only imagine most of you cherish most of these as well.
However, a small few in society either do not understand the concept of personal space, or they care nothing about it.
Now explanation to me why, while in a bank line, anyone would feel the need to step forward, before the line advances. This makes no sense because no matter how much you inch forward it will never make the line move forward. Elongated sigh.
One day in the bank line a lady, let’s call her Mildred, was in such a hurry that every two minutes she was taking a step forward. Eventually she was so close I could feel the heat of her breath on my neck.
I began to feel most uncomfortable because I had just come from the gym and was not smelling like roses and tulips. I had was to come up with a plan quick so that I could regain my personal space before it was lost forever.
Sign of tiredness
Then it hit me, I knew what to do, I began by rubbing my neck, yuh know as a sign of tiredness, and then I stretched my hands as if my body needed the release. With my two arms outstretched to all i did a slight turn of my torso to the left until my arm, still within my personal space, connected with her head slightly.
Mildred took a step back and I apologised for my “mistake”, smiled to myself and placed my hand in my side with my elbow protecting me from any more alien invasions.
Another time a gentleman who was directly infant of me, lets call him Gilbert, was having a conversation with a man who was two persons behind me, we will call him Milton.
The problem was not the conversation but rather the fact that they thought they had to be close in order to have this said convo.
Gilbert stepped close to me and Milton squeezed past the people ahead of him so they could be close.
All the while I was in the middle of the most uncomfortable human sandwich known to man. These men were so close that I could tell that Gilbert brushed his teeth with triple action Colgate and Milton was barely wearing deodorant.
So I did I cleared my throat and shot them the look that said: “Yuh gawh be kiddin’!”, it didn’t work.
On this day my personal space passed away, may it rest in peace. If you doubt me ask me.
I am Toni-Ann “Acka” Johnson.
Love, peace and Mazola Corn Oil.
• Toni Johnson is an actress versed in the area of comedy. Email: toniann.johnson@gmail.com
