Personal Space

It was a fluke. The Detroit Red Wings were one game away from winning the first Stanley Cup since 1955, the year I was born. Al held season tickets and he was ready to sell them. He’d make A LOT of money. He said there was only a 50/50 chance the Wings would win yet again and so early in the playoffs. But I talked him into going. “You’ll be so mad at yourself if they win.” I even offered to tag along, though I’m not a sports fan.

I have two sons and then there’s Al. They are all sports fans, so it’s not like I’d never been to a game before. I’d been to plenty, Red Wings, Pistons, Lions and Tigers…including one where my son almost caught a fly ball. It grazed Tim’s fingers then fell between my legs. Before I could retrieve it for Tim, a guy dove between my legs and grabbed the ball. He stepped into the aisle and held up the ball. People cheered him! He was kind enough to buy me a hot chocolate to make up for the one he spilled all over me in his fervor to grab that ball.

Years later, back to the Red Wings game, the game where they did indeed win the Stanley Cup. Al and I took our seats. The noise level was higher than I’d ever experienced at the dozens of games I’d suffered through over the years. Even I was a little bit excited. But then everyone stood up and slapped five as the Wings hit the puck and took the lead. Nobody sat down after that. Including Big Guy on the other side of me who was taking up half of my space.

I’d been sitting, so I guess he figured what the hell. Then, not liking his butt in my face, I got up, jostling Big Guy, who shot me a nasty look. “Sorry,” I said “You’re in my space.” I tried to stand tall (I’m 5’2″) on my little square of cement. His body turned toward me in disbelief. His look said I was speaking a foreign language, possibly from another planet. Meanwhile Al didn’t notice anything. Another goal had been scored and he was busy slapping somebody high five.

Big Guy on the other side defiantly kept one foot in my space. I decided not to mention it to Al. It was a big night for Detroit. I don’t understand the pull of sports, but I do know that many many people love everything about every sport, my husband included. Yes the Wings won the Stanley Cup and it was fun driving slow down Woodward all the way home with the crowds out dancing and chanting in the streets. I forgot all about rude Big Guy from the game.

But recently, when the videos and photos of Joe Biden’s nose and lips getting very much in women’s spaces emerged, I was reminded of Big Guy. I think Biden is creepy and that he was using white male privilege to do what he wanted. Just like Big Guy. Hardly any of my friends agree with me about Biden. Democrats across our nation mostly don’t either. Their reasons are flimsy, IMO. Sure he’s from a different era. But men have mastered their smart phones. Surely, allowing women their personal space is not beyond them.