Vanessa Victoria Kilmer

My Space

I was in the checkout line today at a popular convenience store, getting a nutritious hotdog and rice pudding for lunch. At first, I was the only person in line. Then, a woman purchasing a gallon of milk came into line before I was done with my transaction. I moved over slightly to give her counter room to put her gallon of milk down so she wouldn’t freeze her fingers off (I’m thoughtful that way.) We had the proper amount of space around ourselves, no auras infringing on each other. But, she moved over closer to me. I still wasn’t done my transaction, so by rights I should have been allowed the open space next to the register, but I moved over again anyway, because she was practically up my butt. Well, the dumb bitch moved over closer to me again. So, now I’m like, “What the hell’s going on here? Hasn’t this woman heard about personal space [me drawing a sphere around myself in the air]?” Again I move. This time I move in front of the register, almost out the door. I still don’t have my change. And what happens? She actually nudges me with her elbow and I swear she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, with a little shit eatin’ grin on her face. I have visions of a major blood bath, her entrails strewn across the aisles, limbs torn off and tossed in the sandwich case. I just take my hotdog and go.