This morning I apparently insulted the woman next to me when I shifted slightly over as she jabbed her elbow into me while rifling through her bag.
“If you don’t want to be touched, get off the bus,” she advised me.
I calmly regarded her. “It’s nothing personal,” I said.
I’d rather not be touched by any weird, inconsiderate person who reeks of cigarette smoke.
Okay, so maybe it was personal.