CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- I seem to have a gift.
One I'd like to return.
My gift enables me to go to a nearly empty library or bookstore and, just as soon as I find the single shelf I want to explore, along comes someone bent on exploring that very same space.
If I were looking at best-sellers, it might not seem so unusual, but the last time it happened I was researching edible weeds of the Northern Hemisphere.
When traveling long distances on the interstate, my car is the one with others clustered around, regardless of the hour or road conditions or how fast or slow I might drive.
If I find it necessary to make a middle-of-the-night trip to a 24-hour pharmacy to purchase a product that, if one believes the advertising, enables women to perform public cartwheels while dressed all in white, everyone else in the store will seem compelled to share my part of the aisle.
I'm certain that if I attempted to walk the Appalachian Trail starting at the north end on the first day of winter, there'd be crowds of people around the instant I needed to do that thing bears do in the woods.
It used to be that I could almost magically keep people from entering my personal space. If I wanted the seats around me to stay empty, they would. I apparently gave off a KEEP AWAY! vibe (or perhaps had a foul odor) that I no longer have.
Especially when it comes to movie theaters.