that's my air you're breathing

today i crawl 0.9 miles into crazy traffic to collect the visa from the brutally efficient cattle ranch.

while standing in line, the gentleman of east asian extraction behind me stands sufficiently close to physically breathe down my neck. i understand that in some places respecting personal space is not exactly explicit. although i have always understood that a minimum-sized personal bubble is implicit. i have also always understood that this minimum includes the ether around my neck. perhaps i understood wrong.