I worked with someone who was very touchy feely, but always with the back of his hand. I felt like a daughter receiving affection even though we were much the same age.
I worked with another chap who would grab and dig his fingers into my arm. It felt aggressive and it hurt, even though it was always under the pretence of banter.
It really depends upon the type of touch. One type may remind me of what I'm missing, another may remind me of what I'm not.
You might find you throw up less if you strain the breakfast cereal to reserve the milk, rather than sticking a fork in the milk and your mouth alternately.
The latter will avoid having to decide whether you take one lump, or two in your coffee as well.
I was on a late afternoon train with my daughter, then aged about 4 years old. We had stopped next to a somewhat derelict hotel waiting for platform space into Cardiff Central.
"Building's burnt down", she pronounced with some authority.
I replied, "No, it's just empty and falling apart because noone is using it."
"Building's burnt down", she repeated.
I tried to explain the disrepair again, but she became tetchy.
"Building's burnt down!"
I heard a few days later that the fire brigade were called to the blaze just after the witching hour.
jac_the_gripper Blog Comments (2,973)
RE: Have you ever...?
I worked with someone who was very touchy feely, but always with the back of his hand. I felt like a daughter receiving affection even though we were much the same age.I worked with another chap who would grab and dig his fingers into my arm. It felt aggressive and it hurt, even though it was always under the pretence of banter.
It really depends upon the type of touch. One type may remind me of what I'm missing, another may remind me of what I'm not.