As a voracious reader and chronicler of my fellow humans and what makes them tick, I've picked up some "rules of the road" to live by. Maybe God has given me the gift of discernment (or maybe not), but I've gotten pretty good at reading people when I meet them (and afterwards).

Trust me, I'm evaluating the hell out of you from the moment of that first handshake. Deciding whether or not you're worth bothering with and what your character is. I can tell you right up front that I tend to shay away from the loud, obnoxious, type, which for some reason that disease seems to infect almost everyone from New York City.

They like to shout at you and are always angry. I'm like "dude, I'm right here, you don't have to shout." So if we meet and you're like that, I likely won't go any further with that.

I think its important not to let corrosive people into your life as their toxicity seems to infect almost everyone around them. They like to break things (and people) like a bull in a china shop. Best to keep your distance, and let them rampage throughout someone else's life.

Don't Stand so Close to Me

As an American, we believe in something called 'Personal Space.' Picture an invisible bubble surrounding each person, extending a few feet in the front, back, and sides. On *Seinfeld" they were known as "Close Talkers" people that intruded into your personal space everytime they spoke with you.

When I lived in Europe a few years ago, I found myself constantly backing up during conversations with those people. I actually ended up having to put my arm out and ask some of them to back off a bit, as it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

And then we have the phenomenon of "asylum seeker" complete strangers starting a conversation about me being American and then steering the convo towards inquiring what my religion is. I don't know about your country, but here in the US, you don't simply walk up to a stranger and ask about their beliefs (unless you're some sort of missionary or something).

I remember telling an Afghan guy that it was none of his fucking business after he kept pressing me about my religion. Afterwards, I decided to freak them out by lying and telling them that I worshiped the dark lord Lucifer! lol! You should have seen the looks that got me! Saying that I was being mentored by Satan himself, was a great way to short-circuit the conversation so that I could get on my day.

And then there's the touching...

Over there it was not at all rare to be walking to the market square and feel a palm cupping your shoulder and hear a "my friend" coming out of the mouth of someone you've never met. Now Americans do tend to be shall we say, "enthusiastic" compared to the wooden and lifeless reserved Brits. But that's after we've gotten to know you a little bit.

I used to love saying outrageous things to and about my English classmates in Germany. For some reason they like to call everyone "mate" (even girls), and when I hear that, I immediately think of sex. So my retort was "mate? when did we start having regular sex?" which made everyone laugh, including the normally dour Brits. Gotta love em though.

The French students were much more open and fun, which is odd as both countries are only separated by the English Channel.

So if you don't know me, keep your hands to yourself. I don't know where that hand might've been. You might've been diddling yourself with it, who knows! :)

But I do think it's important to take the measure of a man before you decide to become friends. Hell, here in America, some of the most notorious serial killers, were described as studious and quiet by their surprised neighbors once the body count was announced. Be careful who you associate with. The life you save, could be your own.