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Body buffer zones are a luxury I’ve grown accustomed to, even taking for granted the assumption strangers will respect them. In Madison we seem to go to great lengths to preserve a 2-3ft. barrier between each other, even in cramped and crowded situations. We take care to allow dissipation room for our bad breath and potentially exuberant hand gestures. With the exception of experiencing the occasional nutter with complete disregard for all civilized things such as hygiene, buffer zones or rational conversation, the body buffer zone is an unspoken Midwestern rule- even in the grips of below 0 winters. Before coming to NYC I was unaware I carried an assumption about body buffer zones. The other day, while conversing with a lifetime islander, I experienced what can only be described as a race in slow motion. In true NYC style, the person was uncomfortably close and I instinctively stepped back to restore THE zone….and she stepped forward. This continued for quite some time until I finally extracted myself from the conversation simply to avoid reaching the end of the block in this plodding dance. I now carry an arsenal of breath enhancers for these close interactions. And then there is the crush while waiting for a subway train or stoplight to change. I’ve stumbled across numerous toes and accidentally bumped inappropriate body parts (and had those body parts bumped into me) simply standing still. Even the pigeons violate THE zone as they patrol the sidewalks scavenging or swoop down to nab what may be a tasty morsel.