Personal Space in Connecticut: A Lost Concept?

Does Connecticut Know About Personal Space?

Connecticut, We Need to Talk About Personal Space.

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Let me tell you two things I liked about COVID-19:

1 - Personal space became law — and that was long overdue.
2 - It killed Phil Spector — and the world needed that too.

Whatever happened to our beautiful, invisible six-foot bubble? I get that COVID was divisive and still is, but I think we can all agree that social distancing was one of the better features of the whole global disaster.

Now, I’m not what anyone would call a textbook “people person.” If I had to sum it up: I have family and close friends I’d die for, and everyone else is what my kids call NPCs — non-playable characters. That said, I leave the door open. NPCs can level up. I’m not nasty to strangers. I hold doors, I say please and thank you, I let one (not two) cars into traffic on a heavy-volume day. I respect my elders. I don’t park like an animal. I return my shopping cart. I give up my seat for ladies, kids, and seniors.

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I’m an OK dude, I think — but I hate when people stand in my personal bubble. That COVID-era six-foot perimeter was ideal, but I’d happily settle for a solid two to three feet now. Unfortunately, that’s not happening. Not even close.

Example: I’m at Walgreens, waiting in line, and some guy is standing so close his toe is on my foot. And I don’t mean foot-mashing — not like he was stomping on me. His big toe was just gently pressed up against my pinky toe. Like we were on a date neither of us agreed to. It was deeply intimate, entirely uncalled for, and frankly, a violation of both personal and podiatric boundaries.

Another time, I was at the Citgo in Danbury (not bragging), and I could feel the woman behind me breathing on my back. Not near me — on me. She was short, so yeah, it was direct-to-back airflow. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was part of some weird ASMR kink scenario that I absolutely did not consent to.

So, I have to ask: is this just a Connecticut thing, or are we failing at personal space nationwide? Because I’m starting to think it might be local.

Think about it — CT is squished between New York and Boston like a stressed-out middle child. We’ve absorbed the aggression of NYC and the oblivious confidence of Boston. Our weather is usually trash, which means we spend nine months a year marinating in gray skies and weird humidity. That combo definitely messes with emotions and maybe crashes your spatial awareness.

Whatever the cause, one thing is clear: people need to step off. Literally.