Standing in line is serious business here in France. If you thought the cars on the street were close well be prepared for people to get even closer. I noticed this curious disconect in my use of proximity compared to the French almost as soon as I touched ground in this lovely country. At the airport in Paris I had given the gentleman in front of me his space while standing close enough that people would know I was following him in line, or so I tought. After a couple minutes in line a lady just steped in front of me. I was a little bit confused at the time, but thought that maybe she assumed I was just unaware of her doing it and that she was in a rush to get through at the airport, but then it happened again.
I was standing in line at a bakery across from the train station in Nice and here they came a nice looking coupe that parked themselves right in front of me. This time I was sure it wasn't coincidence, and I remembered reading up about this unique trait of the French in the book "French or Foe" by Polly Platt. My fantastic French friends really just like to get through the line I guess and want to be clear about who is in and who is out of it, so since then I have learned to stand just a bit closer, even if that means I need to "pop my own bubble."
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