Close Talkers

Yknow those people. The ones who have no sense of boundaries or personal space. The ones who think everything they have to say is of such supreme importance and thus must be heard with minimum space from the listeners ear canal, lest one morsel of their wisdom fall to the wayside.
See, I'm a person who requires, nay demands, their personal space. If I were a famous rock star, besides no brown M&Ms in my dressing room, I would have a personal space addendum in my rider contract with every venue, I just need my "me" time, and my "me" space to co habitat in. Plus I have excellent hearing and the uncanny ability to fake being an interested listener. Usually everyone wins. You get to chatter about whatever, and I get to daydream and live in my head, while smiling and nodding, granting you a perfunctory "uh-huh" when appropriate, and everyone leaves satisfied and validated.
Usually.
See, there's one co-worker of my mine who's brought all this to the forefront for me. I would walk miles out of my way up-hill over hot coals to avoid being cornered by him on a break or at lunch. He's a nice enough gentleman. I have nothing against him per se. I just can't stand being forced to stare at his tonsils while he tells me about his political views or dental work or what he ate for lunch (mostly because I can peer straight down into his stomach cavity from my vantage point and see his still undigested meal)
And I try. I really do,to be polite. I'll take a step or three back, he'll take four. I'm sure any pedestrians who've passed by while I'm cornered, must think we're sharing secrets of national security, or practicing some really lame dance routine we're hoping to debut at the Catskills this summer. It was so bad one day he actually backed me up against the glass door. I was trapped. Literally. I even asked him to move back, with as much concern and civility as I could muster, so as not to "blow smoke in your face, because second hand smoke is a killer y'know" He just stepped to the side without missing a beat.
I'm at my wits end. I've had enough. I must take a stand and reclaim the personal space which is so rightfully mine. No longer will I suffer in silence and discomfort, I've decided the next time he comes too close to "chat" I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago.
I'm going to fake a seizure.
Eureka!
I am a genius of unparalleled proportions.