Just a Little Word about "Personal Space"

As many of you may know, I am the queen of Zumba.  The queen of Zumba who hasn't lost an ounce although she's been busting her butt for nearly a year, but the queen nonetheless.  Lately, though, I must confess that my attendance has been less than stellar.  Holidays and all...  Plus the fact that I HAVEN'T LOST AN OUNCE as of yet, but it's all about being healthy.  Right????  Bullshit!

So there I was last night.  In Zumba.  Minding my own business.  I was running a little late so I didn't get my usual spot.  No biggie; I got one close by.  Since I'm short and the instructor is too, I try for the front of the room.  Besides, in this particular class the crowd seems to gravitate towards the back of the room.  Since I often get claustrophobic in confined spaces, it's a win-win.  Right?!?!  I have plenty of workout area.  Normally.

Maybe I was just feeling overly irritated because I was in a rush.  Maybe I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed yesterday.  Maybe my Zoloft dosage needs to be increased.  Or just maybe someone needs to think twice about encroaching on my effn' personal space. 

Chicky rubbed me the wrong way from get-go.  I don't know why, but I decided that we weren't going to be best workout buddies from the moment I laid eyes on her.  I'm sure she's a lovely young lady.  Sweet and considerate.  Damn-near Mother Theresa-ish.  However, she was wearing skin tight blue jeans (camel toes and all), furry boots, and forty pounds of make up.  This is Zumba, heifer.  Not the club!  That's not all.  She was also sporting a tight low-cut tee with, get this, a regular freakin' bra!  Underwire and cleavage all over the joint.  Now do you see why I had the bad vibes??

Lucky for me, the only place left in the room was directly in front of Miss T-Pain girl.  Fine.  She's seems to be hanging towards the back with the other newbies.  I'll be fine.  So I thought...  Hell to the effn' NO!  Sister had about as much rhythm as a 3-legged elephant.  She was all over the damn places.  Legs and arms flailing around like a Pentecostal at a revival.  All she needed to do was start speaking in tongues and I would have gotten the heck out of dodge.

Instead, all I could do was be extremely annoyed.  Instead of flailing around in the back, somehow she'd worked her way up to where I was standing.  Two inches away!  I could count the beads of sweat hanging from her clumped mascara. 

At one point, I looked to find her standing right in front of me.  "How the hell did she do that??" I thought.  If it wasn't so damn annoying, it might have been funny as hell.  But I was irritable.  I wanted to kick her.  Hard.  Push her out of my way.  Out.Of.My.Space.DAMMIT!  Please!

Lord, I hope she's not there tomorrow night.  I'm not sure I can show as much restraint.

Not her, but you get the picture...