Yo Quiero Personal Space

I sat down at a table in the dining area of Taco Bell. I probably can count the number of times I've eaten inside a Taco Bell on one hand, so the experience would be a perfect opportunity for me to observe my fellow patrons. I didn't know exactly how many people would filter through the doors just past the noon hour, but I figured I'd observe enough people to write a brief blog about my experience. Boy, was that the understatement of the year.

After finishing my Seven Layer Burrito, I slowly sipped on my fountain drink, watching just over the top of my notebook like a rookie private investigator who can't help but be noticed. I listened as a team of construction workers - all white men - talked about various camping trip experiences. Their volume was exaggerated, just as were their hand movements. A Hispanic mother and daughter sat down at the booth across from me, maintaining much lower tones in their quiet conversation than the boisterous construction workers. The construction workers left, and for a few minutes the Taco Bell dining area was quiet...

Quiet, as if foreshadowing an approaching storm.

I refilled my fountain drink and returned to my seat. I hadn't even settled into my seat when a raucous cacophony of teenage voices poured in through the doorway as a busload of high schoolers accosted the weaving maze leading up to the front counter. I could barely contain myself. Jackpot! As the stream of students continued to pour in through the doors, I scribbled frantically in my notebook, still trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Personal spaces were violated as bodies packed into the lunch line. Conversations loudened as multiple conversations battled for priority and supremacy. Lines were crossed in that maze of metal hand rails that would normally create distance in almost any other setting. As I watched the teenagers filter through the line, I wondered what would happen if an outsider tried to infiltrate the same personal space. Would a random stranger be given the same leiniency as friends and chaperones? Probably not. Would a stranger even feel comfortable pinned in close proximity with people who were in turn strangers to him/her? Probably not. Yet, as the maze to the front counter grew more and more jammed with bodies, my suppositions were challenged.

Enter a family of three: a mother and her two children. With barely enough room to squeeze through the front door, the family squished in with the swarm of teenagers and chaperones.

Then a funny thing happened. As if triggered by the lack of personal space, these complete strangers began talking and laughing, carrying on as if they had been friends for years.

Could it be that our personal space has been the great divider, the thick, transparent outer skin separating us from our true inner socialite? Could it be that with personal space gone, as evinced by this experience, strangers seem to loosen up, to feel almost a greater level of comfort with those within our close proximity?

Perhaps the rules of personal space are nothing more than rules we want in place to keep others at a distance. Perhaps the rules of personal space are voided when standing in line at a fast food restaurant. Perhaps the forbidden behavior within the contexts of the fast food line is then the rules we cherish so much in normal settings. Would people complain if we gave each other the same personal space in a fast food line that we would on a sidewalk? Would the line stretch back through the front doors and into the parking lot if we alotted three feet of space between us and the person in front of us?

But, maybe the ability to feel comfortable within the contexts of personal space violation is not the case for everyone. Maybe violation of personal space is only acceptable to those that are already sociable people. I know I for one cringe when people stand too close to me, much less try starting up a conversation. Additionally, perhaps the level of personal space we are willing to give up varies depending on the situation, or the person. If someone smells funny, or is dressed weird, or if they are the only other person in line, our liberty with their and our personal space would most likely differ.

And what of our vocal personal space? Is it okay to be loud and boisterous with other people in the vicinity, like the construction workers? Or does fast food dining room etiquette ask for vocal personal space while forfeiting physical personal space?

Perhaps these revelations regarding fast food personal space are, in fact, relative to each circumstance. Whatever the case may be, I know that my unique experience observing this Taco Bell lunch hour was an eye opening experience and has brought up some interesting questions.

So, what is your level of personal space?
Does it differ depending on the circumstances?
Are you comfortable giving up your personal space?
What do you feel are the rules for vocal personal space?