Hands off, buster

As a relatively young person living in a major metropolitan area, I do my share of going out to bars, and occasionally clubs. And, as I assume is the case for most people who like going out, I like to be at popular places, which means, they are often crowded. In New York especially, 75 people will pack into a 12-seat bar as though this is a totally reasonable use of space, a phenomenon I suppose is to be expected when we will also keep shoving into a subway car until everyone on board is gasping for air, and people make their homes in 250 square feet.

All of which is to say, I am used to crowds and generally fine with them, but as summer kicks in and many places I frequent are busier and busier, I am noticing an uncomfortable phenomenon: the waist-graze. I understand that as one navigates a very crowded small space, a certain degree of personal contact is unavoidable as everyone involved moves around the bar or club to get drinks, use the restroom, find friends, and so on -- the shoulder tap, the gentle arm squeeze, and, in very loud spots, the full-body slither. As much as I appreciate this necessity, I simply cannot tolerate it when a complete stranger, generally male, feels the need to place his hand on my waist as a means to direct me. A shoulder or arm is fair game for stranger contact; a waist is really more for my boyfriend to grab on to. It feels like an invasion! If we have never had a conversation, dude, then seriously, respect the boundaries of stranger-to-stranger interaction, and rely on a simple "excuse me." It's going to get you where you want to go all the same.