Space and the fear of The Grim Reapers chilly hand!

Now before I start please don't get me wrong, I think old people are great, my great aunt is a feisty nice lady of 86, who means the world to me and my gramps (who turned 91 this year) I care for too.

But the issue I have is - I never like to queue with a pensioner with no idea about personal space and their big fear of death (fairs, fairs it is always around the corner for them). I'm not the only one my best friend has similar situations.

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Most of the times it appears to happen in M&S till queue, as seems a favourite hang out for gangs of them (what would you call a group of pensioners?), all buying overpriced but decent food. Some days the amount of tweed is too much for the eye, some are fine and make pleasant conversation and a smile, but I digress.

After making my choices - which are pretty simple when you have the same thing, I go to the till and this is where my heart starts to race and the mission to avoid the static nylon, fluffy tweed and noisy polyester begins.

I've always had a thing about personal space and who to let in it, I rarely hug my sister and just of late started to hug my parents again, I don't know what has cause this, friends I hug all the time... but family I don't much, is it the same as putting a kiss on a text?

.. again something that I never used to do...

But when it comes to a stranger, well I can flinch and feel horrid.

And the main offenders are old ladies...

(Some old ladies, young man)

So the situation is your happily stood in a queue - with the right amount of distance from you to the next person and the payee, when suddenly, they are there, first you notice a slight catch of your coat or a brush on your back - so instinctively you move forward and give them room, but sensing you've moved, they move too - even if it's only faction of an inch (I'm still imperial)

- it's almost like their tweed has taken on the properties of velcro or magically gained magnetic attraction to you!, or is this their way of saying hurry up I've not much time left on this mortal coil, I have to feed my pussy it's din dins...

Worst still when this does occur, the payee is taking their time, forgot their number or wants cash back or this items crushed etc etc making this shuffler behind more and more annoying.

So now you're stood waiting, knowing what a limpet feels like. Sometimes it can end there, you can pay and leave - rapidly, but there are times when it will last beyond this...

If the situation continues and you've closed the gap up as much as you dare, to the person in front, you then have to experience every little movement, that the tweed bearer makes, felt on your back - are they going through you pockets too, picking out lint and crumbs? runs through your mind too.

If this happens you may as well pay for their shopping, since become so close... and they are next to you as you begin punching in your number to pay, almost so close that you struggle for breath as they steal it, before you have chance to take it in.

Drastic visions, but I only want a lover that close.

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There are only 2 solutions, I've discovered so far to help this:

1. Which is mine, is to stand sideways with my legs wide apart - never turn your back on them or they will be stealing your warmth as quick as cold morning.

2. My best friends solution (which you need balls for), is to turnaround baffle them face on with a statement, sending the offending OAP in to a confused state, which in turn makes them back off into the depths of their wheeled trolley, he did this once as an old dear was nearly humping his leg as he paid, it worked a treat!.

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So on to the second issue.....

Yes I apologised before for the "fear of death" thing, but I have lived most of my life (at least 30 years now) with a grandparent, who has been afraid of death. As the rest of my grandparents have sadly passed away, through illness and genetic conditions, he has out lived them all and the rate he's going - he still has quite a while left in him (unless he worries himself to death).

I have a thing about it in the most part as it can get slightly annoying at times... he worries about every little thing - that could KILL HIM!.... how ever trivial... and some of them have been very trivial!

But it still remains a surprising and captivating mystery to our family, that he has lasted this long... as I will explain...

Again I can imagine anyone saying so what.... you should be glad that he still about (which I am)

Well, since the passing of his wife my grandma (29 years ago), who must have kept him in line, he has become one of these people off "how clean is your house"... not quite as bad as some on there. But we are willing to bet there is something else alive in his kitchen.

Before he came to live in the granny annex at my parents, he live in a one bedroom flat, this coupled with his habits - which mainly were not cleaning properly, stepping in dog mess at any given chance and keeping old rusty bike, that maybe useful.

I've never known anyone this untidy, dirty and considering he is so afraid of death, tempting the grim reaper everyday (maybe even he's afraid to go in there), with the lack of basic hygiene around the home.

It's plainly visible with amount of dust bunnies, living on his skirting boards and the general grime on surfaces, should be a clear indication, that he should not worry so much about death... I think death worries about him!.