When our lovely, warm bread rolls arrived, my companion was a little miffed that I got butter and he didn't. So he summoned a waiter with a sweeping arm action that reminded me of a fast bowler. All had gone smoothly until that point. When the waiter approached our table to deliver the missing butter, he put his hand on my friend's shoulder. Rather firmly, he said. And he left it there a little too long. My mate didn't like it one little bit. He felt his personal space had been invaded.