Unit2SpaceInvaders课文翻译综合教程四.doc

Unit 2 Space Invaders Richard Stengel At my bank the other day, I was standing in a line snaking around some tired velvet ropes when a man in a sweat-suit started inching toward me in his eagerness to deposit his Social Security check. As he did so, I minutely advanced toward the woman reading the Wall Street Journal in front of me, who, in mild annoyance, began to sidle up to the man scribbling a check in front of her, who absentmindedly shuffled toward the white-haired lady ahead of him, until we were all hugger-mugger against each other, the original lazy line having collapsed in on itself like a Slinky. I estimate that my personal space extends eighteen inches in front of my face, one foot to each side, and about ten inches in back — though it is nearly impossible to measure exactly how far behind you someone is standing. The phrase personal space has a quaint, seventies ring to it (Youre invading my space, man), but it is one of those gratifying expressions that are intuitively understood by all human beings. Like the twelve-mile limit around our national shores, personal space is our individual border beyond which no stranger can penetrate without making us uneasy. Lately, Ive found that my personal space is being invaded more than ever before. In elevators, people are wedging themselves in just before the doors close; on the street, pedestrians are zigzagging through the human traffic, jostling others, refusing to give way; on the subway, riders are no longer taking pains to carve out little zones of space between themselves and fellow-passengers; in lines at airports, people are pressing forward like fidgety taxis at red lights. At first, I attributed this tendency to the population explosion and the relentless Malthusian logic that if twice as many people inhabit the planet now as did twenty years ago, each of us has half as much space. Recently, Ive wondered if its the season: T-shirt weather can make proximity more alluring (or much, much less). Or perha