I've written before about the way people in Romania can be rather oblivious to any sense of personal space.
Two such people live in my apartment building, and I am rather adept at running into them right as we are about to get on the elevator. Now, this lift is not exactly the most safe or secure thing in the whole world, and I consider how exactly I could die everytime I get on it. I'm not terribly worried while riding alone, but when my friends join me along with their grocery bags, things get a little worrisome.
My poor elevator took about (no joke) 74 seconds to reach floor four. I know this because I counted. I counted because I wanted to see exactly how long my male Romanian friend would be pressed up against me.
74 seconds of the most intimate action I've gotten in a LONG time...