Proxemics

PROXEMICS

“You have to back up, Ben. You’re too close.”

”But how is the person I’m talking to supposed to hear me?”

Melissa sighed. This was going to be tougher than she thought. As a life coach she’d had challenges before. Helping people adjust to life’s unspoken rules and expectations was hard. But Ben seemed to be … more.

He’d been referred to Melissa by his mother, Betty. At twenty-seven, Betty was worried that Ben’s inability to read social cues and interact with his peers was preventing him from succeeding professionally, romantically, socially—in all aspects of his life. She’d heard good things about Melissa, and had signed Ben up and paid for his sessions.

Right now he was testing Melissa’s resolve. “Okay, Ben, what could you do to ensure that the person you’re talking to is able to hear you?”

Ben looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Lean in, of course. I told you!” And he did just that, moving closer, his face mere inches away from hers. Melissa had to fight the urge to step back, out of his “spit zone.”

”You’re too close, Ben. People don’t like that. I don’t like that,” she repeated, leaning away.

Ben stepped back (thank God) and crossed his arms. “So you say. I don’t have any problems leaning in and talking. No one’s ever told me to move back.”

Melissa sighed, again. She did a lot of sighing when she was with Ben. “Okay, but I want you to think back. When you lean in that close, what do people do?”

Ben thought for a moment. “I dunno. Maybe step back.” Pause. “Look away.” Pause. “Maybe walk away.” He looked at Melissa. “That doesn’t mean that I’m too close. Like I said, no one ever tells me to back up—“ He gave her side-eye. “—except you”

”And why do you think they move away? Or look away? Or walk away?”

Ben just looked at Melissa.

”Not a rhetorical question, Ben.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I never really thought about it. It’s always been like that. I just figured that they were snobby or something.” Another shrug.

”Could it be because you’re too close?”

”Well, how am I supposed to know if I’m too close? I can’t read minds!”

Melissa bit the inside of her cheek to stop from snapping at him. Now he was whining. She really didn’t need a big man baby as a client.

She took a big cleansing breath, exhaled slowly, and started to explain. “In society there are things called proxemic preferences. These refer to how people structure the space around them.” She looked at Ben hoping he was paying attention. He was not. He was looking at the ceiling of her office. Sigh. “It’s how close you are when you talk to people.” Still not paying attention.

She couldn’t help herself, she looked up at the ceiling, just to make sure there wasn’t a leak, or something else that would capture Ben’s attention so completely. Nope, the ceiling was fine. She took a breath, and continued to talk to his chin. “There are four different degrees of proxemic distancing. The first is intimate distance which is zero inches to eighteen inches.” She held her hands out to demonstrate. “Those are people you have a close intimate relationship with. Like your mom.’

Ben’s head lowered, his face screwed up menacingly. His eyes squinted and he looked at Melissa angrily. “I do not have a ‘relationship’ with my mom! That’s gross!” he snapped.

Melissa was momentarily confused, then realization struck. She shook her head. “No, Ben,” she said calmly, “I don’t mean a sexual relationship, I mean a close personal relationship—best friends, family, a partner, parents. People you trust the most in the world.”

”Oh. Sorry.” He didn’t sound or look sorry.

“Then you have personal space which is eighteen inches to four feet.” She paced off the distance in front of him. “That is your friend bubble. Let’s say, you were talking to one of your friends. You’d be close enough to lean in, maybe touch their arm. You can be that close but not too close.”

Ben leaned over and touched Melissa’s arm. She made a note to herself to make sure she was at the farthest distance away when explaining things to Ben. ”But remember, this category is mostly for your friends.” She smiled, taking a step away, so that Ben’s hand slid off her shoulder.

“The next category is casual acquaintance which is four to ten feet between you and the other person. That is the distance most of the people you come in contact daily reside. Like you and I.” She paced off the distance. “You can’t reach out and touch the other person, and they can’t reach out and touch you. That’s because you’re relationship is more casual. Or professional. Not personal. These are people you probably wouldn’t see socially.”

Ben stuck out his arm, waving it into the air, hitting nothing.

”Exactly,” said Melissa.

“The final category is what we call stranger distance, which is anything over ten feet.” She paced further away from Ben. “It’s for all the people you don’t know.” She had to speak louder for Ben to hear her.

Ben looked confused. “How would I talk to people way over there?” he asked, voice raised.

”That’s the point,” yelled Melisa. “You probably wouldn’t. These are strangers.”

The last thing that she told Ben when their session ended, was to read the signals others are sending—pay attention to how people are reacting to you.

*****

When Melissa entered the office for her next session with Ben, he was agitated. Very agitated. He was pacing the room, looking distraught.

”Ben, what’s wrong? Are you okay?’

He paused his pacing, and looked at her. “No, I’m not okay. Your stupid rules got me arrested.” He started pacing again.

Melissa was shocked. “Arrested? What happened?” He didn’t answer right away, he just continued to pace. Melissa waited.

Finally, he stopped and flopped into the office’s couch. He grasped his hands between his legs and hung his head looking completely dejected. Finally he looked up at Melissa, but said nothing.

She made a mental note to congratulate him on making eye contact. When they’d first met, he would never look directly at her. There was always something more interesting—the floor, the ceiling, his shoes, her shoes, his hands, the plant in the corner. But here he was, locking eyes with her. But this was not the time.

Finally he took a deep breath and started. ”Well, you know that work thing I had a couple of days ago?”

Melissa nodded. She did indeed know about the event. It was all they had spoken about in the last couple of sessions. Ben had been so anxious, seriously considering skipping it. Usually when he went to social events, he spent most of his time standing alone by the bar, holding up a wall. This was part of the reason that he needed a life coach—he needed to learn how to socialize with other members of the human race. Appropriately. Just last session, he’d declared to Melissa that he wasn’t going to go. But she’d managed to persuade him that he should go

”What’s the worst thing that could happen if you went?” she’d asked.

”I have a crappy time, as usual.”

”Exactly. This isn’t life and death. And if you’re not having a good time, what can you do?”

He’d looked at her unsure. “I dunno. Go home?”

”Exactly. The stakes aren’t that high. Sure you want to make a good impression on your co-workers, but this is just a reception. There’s not even going to be dinner, just drinks and snacks.” He’d still looked uncertain. “Ben, if you really don’t want to go, don’t. But if you think of this as a learning exercise, that should make it easier for you. You know these people, so you won’t be so reluctant to talk to them.”

”They’re not my friends,” he said.

”Even better. These are your work acquaintances. There are no expectations from you or them. You can just talk about work.”

Apparently, her declaration that there was no harm, no foul, was not actually true because Ben had been arrested. But Melissa couldn’t figure out for the life of her what could have gone so terribly wrong—it was drinks and snacks, for God’s sake. Not brain surgery! What had happened?

Finally Ben looked up at Melissa. “It’s your fault.”

Melissa was stunned. “My fault? How so?”

”All this stupid stuff about personal space—prox-o-matics—that we talked about last time.

”Proxemics.”

“Whatever.” He flapped his hand in the air, like he was shooing away a bug. Then he shook his head. “You said that this was a good opportunity to practice prox-o-matics.” Melissa didn’t correct him this time.

”Yes. We talked about it being an opportunity to maintain proper social distancing in a professional setting, practice small talk.”

He looked up at her, his jaw set. “Yeah, well you told me all these things—distances when talking to people, and who belonged in each of the groups. All this stuff! I couldn’t remember it all. I was confused. So I took a tape measure with me to the party.”

Melissa wasn’t sure that she’d heard him correctly. “A tape measure?” she reiterated.

“Yeah. A tape measure. How else was I going to figure out the distances? I marked the different distances on the tape measure in Sharpie.”

Melissa wasn’t getting a good feeling about this. “Can I see the tape measure?”

Ben shook his head. “No. The police took it because it was evidence.”

”Evidence?” whispered Melissa, not liking where the story was going.

”Yeah.”

”Ben, what happened that made the police confiscate your tape measure as evidence?”

He looked annoyed. “Like I said, I had marked off the four different distances on the tape measure—eighteen inches, four feet, ten feet, and beyond. I thought it would be a good way to try and guess the relationship between people. So I started measuring. I tried to be subtle.” He shook his head remembering. “I didn’t go up and hold the measuring tape between two people.” Pause. “Well, except once.”

”Is that what got you into trouble?”

”Yup.”

He said no more. Melissa really, really, really wanted to know what happened, but she didn’t want to pressure Ben. He would have to tell her at his own pace. Besides, he was obviously angry with her, and she didn’t want to aggravate him any more than necessary. So they sat in silence for a couple of minutes, until Melissa couldn’t take it any more.

”Why were the police called, Ben?”

He shook his head again. “So, Bethany is one of the partners. I’ve seen her husband at a couple of events. She was talking to Jeffrey from marketing who is also married.. Normally, no big deal, right? People talk all the time. But because you—“ he pointed his finger at Melissa, “—told me all about all the different distances, and how they define the type of relationship people have, I thought they were a bit close.” He shrugged. “So I went up and measured the space between them. It was twelve inches. Intimate distance, right? So I started laughing.

“Jeffrey wanted to know what was so funny. So, I said that I knew they were both married, but obviously they were cheating because they were talking so close. Well, Bethany looked appalled, and literally took four steps away from Jeffrey. But Jeffrey was pissed, so he grabbed the measuring tape and pulled it out longer. So I pressed the button to retract it, and it cut Jeffrey’s hand. There was blood everywhere! People were watching, videoing the whole thing. I think Bethany called the cops. When they got there, Jeffrey said I assaulted him. The cops believed him because his hand was bleeding. I tried to explain to the cops what had happened, but they weren’t listening to me. They hooked me up and took me down to the police station. I had to call my mom for bail money. I’m on administrative leave until the trial.”

Ben looked directly at Melissa. “It’s all your fault. I was doing fine until you started yapping about prox-o-matics—

“Proxemics.”

”I. Don’t. Care. What. It’s. Called. This shit has ruined my life! And it’s all your fault.”

Melissa didn’t agree with Ben’s assertion, but he was angry and she was in no position to argue with him. She didn’t want to escalate the situation.

“What would you like me to do to fix this, Ben?” she asked in a soothing voice.

He walked over to the office door and locked it. Turning back towards her, he said “It’s too late to fix it. You have to pay for ruining my life.”