Goddamn Space Invaders.

No, not that kind. I'm talking about that guy or girl you sit next to in class, or that you work with, or ride the subway with. Like water, they will naturally fill up whatever space is not physically occupied, including that area I like to call "up in my business," but most people refer to as a bubble.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I'm not one of those people who needs three feet on all sides between myself and the nearest human, although I do enjoy that. As a former paratrooper and a pretty experienced world traveler, I'm fairly comfortable with spending lengths of time in situations that would make most people homicidally claustrophobic. I don't think the problem lies in me.

Take, for example, an incident that occurred maybe an hour ago, in my Chemistry recitation, in which literally every seat is filled with something resembling a human.

I sit down two seats from anyone (obviously I got there early), get out my stuff, play with my phone. Minutes later, average-looking 18- or 19- year old college bro sits down behind me. I think nothing of it until, somehow, his knee is tapping against the back of my chair.

Taptap.

Okay, I think. He'll stop in a minute, whatever.

Taptaptaptap.

This is getting irritating.

Taptaptaptaptaptap.

I loudly clear my throat and scoot my chair up a couple inches. Ah, sweet relief.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

I turn around and politely (honest to God) ask him to please stop. This is when I notice that he's actively attempting to invade not only my space, but that of everyone around him. His jacket is halfway on the desk of the girl behind him. She's oblivious. Looking around, however, I see looks of obvious frustration and irritation from his obviously non-confrontational but terrified victims attempting to avoid contact with his various limbs and possessions. Upon request, he grunts acknowledgement and stops. Briefly.

The "test" is handed out, and the room falls silent but for the sounds of scribbling pencils and the tapping of calculator keys.

And that goddamn knee in my back. Again.

By this time, I'm still rational, but steadily headed towards Fully Fucking Pissed. I turn around, this time with full-on crazy eye. Dude. You have GOT to stop. Get. Your knee. Off. My chair.

Obviously, everyone nearby is staring, interested to see what happens when you combine a space-invading dipshit with an angry bearded sociopath in the wild. Much to everyone's disappointment (except for mine), the kid goes straight up ghost white, sits up straight, and gets his shit together. I take a moment to pat myself on the back and return to my test.

Humans: 1, Space Invaders: 0

...

The point of this story is not to make me look like an irritable douchebag (which may have happened anyway), but to simply point out that daily life is invasive enough without me having to worry about you touching me. Whether it's cramped classroom seats, rush hour on public transport, or the "National Security" Agency recording your weird erotic fan-fiction internet activity (hi guys!), we spend our lives with people up in our business.

Don't add insult to injury.

And, as always, Go Broncos.