Upon sitting up for several hours reading the stories on your website, I recalled one of my own. I will admit here and now that I am not the most up-to-date on etiquette, nor am I incredibly polite to those I am extremely close with, but I am nearly always polite with strangers.

On to the story! I was standing in line at a grocery store, attempting to pay for two items- a soda and a bag of chips. My cashier was nervous and shaky, obviously new, and informed me ahead of my card-swiping that they’d just gotten new card machines and she wasn’t quite sure how they worked just yet. A woman walked up in line behind me (despite the fact that there were several other lines open with no customers), and proceeded to, literally, throw her things from her basket onto the counter. I went ahead with my first card swipe.

The cashier frowned, and then turned to me with an incredibly apologetic,  “Can you swipe your card again, please?”.  I obliged, and noticed that the woman in line behind me heave a very audible sigh. I glanced to the side, but ignored her and chose to carry on with my business. I swiped my card again. Once again, the cashier pushed a wrong button, and she asked me to swipe my card through again. The woman behind me at this point grabbed one of her boxed items and slammed it down on the counter. This time, I turned my head, and said, “I’m really sorry about this…the machines are new, apparently,” with a very sincere and apologetic smile. I was given a very snarly smile, but I shrugged it off and went to swipe my card again. Once more, the cashier apologized profusely, to both me and the woman behind me in line.

In response, the woman behind me threw all of her things on the floor, stamped her foot, and shouted, “Well I’m sorry but I don’t have the f***ing time for this s**t!”. I stood there, astonished for a moment, and watched as she stormed out of the store, turned to the front of the store (she was easily visible through the front windows, and the check-out areas are very close to them), and got into her car, which had been left on, in the fire lane (you know, where you’re not supposed to park unless you so happen to be driving a fire truck), and with a very young child in the passenger seat (mind you, I saw the car on my way into the store, which is how I knew it was on to begin with, and I watched her enter that exact car). I was still stunned as I grabbed all of her items up from the floor and put them back in her basket.

I said to the cashier, “I’m…really sorry for her behavior…would you like me to put her things back?” To which the cashier responded, “No, no, it’s fine…I’m sorry about that, you really don’t need to do anything.” I swiped my card once more, the cashier found the appropriate button, and I was out of the grocery store. I don’t understand why you would choose to, first of all, leave your child unattended with the car on, parked in the fire lane, and then to get that disgruntled. Don’t go the grocery store if you don’t have the time to wait for a few minutes in line, and especially if you don’t have the time to park your car.   0826-10

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It was my little sister’s high school graduation and of course I the proud older sister wanted to be there and snap lots of pictures of her.  My mom had to take her there and she had to be there 1-1/2 hours before the graduation ceremony started.  I opted to go with and decided since we would be there so early we would get and reserve good seats for our family in the bleachers since the graduation ceremony was taking place on the football field.

I wanted to sit in the very front of the section my little sister had directed us to sit because that would be the nearest to her seating assignment during the ceremony.  I wanted to be able to stand up and take as many pictures as I wanted and be able to lean forward to get good shots.  My mom opted to sit and save seats in the row behind me as she did not want the bar at the front seat of the bleachers to obstruct her view.  As time passed more people arrived for the graduation and took their seats.

A rather large family sat next to me but I thought nothing of it. At the end of the large family right next to me was an elderly woman, most likely grandmother.  She had brought some sort of blanket to sit on and it clearly stretched all the way onto my seat.  I was standing at this point just scoping everything out since I knew we would be sitting for a couple to a few hours but I was directly in front of where I was going to sit.  Again I thought nothing of it and thought she probably didn’t notice her blanket was on my seat and I would simply push it over to sit down when I was ready as politely as I could.

Pretty soon the bleachers were full and the graduation was about to start.  I was still standing and there were obviously no seats.  An elderly gentleman comes along and excuses himself as he tries to pass me to get into the row that I am in.  I think nothing of it again.  But then he says EXCUSE ME and eyes me and eyes MY seat.  Realizing what has happened I say, “I’m sorry but I am sitting here”, feeling quite awkward about the whole thing that has transpired, connecting all the pieces together.

I think first of all he and his family knew all along I was sitting there and why they had to have that one spot I don’t know.  This man is ready for a fight.  He grits his teeth and clenches his fists and angrily says, “I don’t think so!”  Before I can react my mom from the row behind me speaks up and says, “My daughter has been in that spot since 8:00AM!  We all got here before your whole family even did!”

Luckily, before things can transpire out of control a middle-aged woman of the large family quickly makes the entire family scoot down to make room for the angry, nearly tardy man.  I was pretty appalled but still managed to get great pictures of my little sister and no further altercation with the large family occurred. 0827-10

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Several years ago, when I was a Sophomore in High School, I joined the the school newspaper. At the end of the school year, it was tradition for the entire staff (around 10 people) to go out for a celebratory lunch. We usually chose a local restaurant, as there weren’t many to choose from in our small town. Unexpectedly, the restaurant we had chosen to dine at that afternoon was unusually busy for a weekday afternoon.

Our server, a man who appeared to be in his late 20s, had several tables to attend to. Consequently, the service was slow and a few of our orders were messed up. He was very apologetic, and we were all very understanding. None of us minded an excuse to return to school later than planned. As we finished up our meals, our server thoughtfully apologised again for the slow service and offered us free dessert. We were all very thrilled and a few of us went ahead and ordered a slice of pie.

It was at this point that our advisor, the Seniors and several of the Juniors announced that they had to leave early. They left money for their meals and promptly exited, leaving all of the Sophomores and one lonesome Junior at the table. After finishing our pie, the server gave us our bill and we all got our wallets out. It was then that we realized that those who had left early either left no money for a tip, or didn’t even cover the cost of their entire meal. Those of us who remained scoured our wallets for money and dug for change. The bill, almost reaching $100, was covered, but we could only pool $10 for the tip. We felt awful, but were mostly angry at the upperclassmen who had left us in the situation.

As the five of us walked out of the restaurant, our server met us at the door. As we turned to look at him, he began by saying, “Listen, I know the service wasn’t that great.” One of the Sophomores started to reply with, “That’s okay!” when the server cut her off, and said, “But 10% is a really shitty tip.” All of our eyes widened, and we shuffled out of the door, embarrassed and shocked. Yes, we understood he deserved a better tip, especially for the free dessert, but it wasn’t as if we’d left nothing. After all, tips ARE optional. And even though he wasn’t aware of our predicament, why assume we were trying to be “shitty” and jump straight to a verbal attack? What did he think he was going to accomplish by approaching us like that? Because all he did was steer us away from ever dining there again. Oh well, maybe that was his intention. 0827-10

There are going to be long time fans of this site who will wonder if this is a story submitted to troll for very adverse reactions.   Had the story contributor not only given her name but granted the right to use the story on TV and radio as well as her phone number to contact her, I might have been inclined to agree.

Down to business {cued to the sound of Miss Jeanne cracking her knuckles}…

You all were aware that the tip was insufficient and that the waiter deserved better. Knowing this, you had an obligation to take the initiative to either quickly figure out a plan to compensate him further (like someone running to an ATM machine while the rest wait) or approach him first in a very apologetic manner explaining the situation and offering a plan to compensate him. Here’s how that conversation would have gone:

“Waiter, there is a little problem. It seems that some members of our party that left earlier did not leave sufficient funds to adequately compensate you for your service.   What we now have collected in no way reflects our opinion of your service but we feel a need to make some kind of arrangement to give you more for a tip.  Will you be working here this week and if so, what days and hours so that I can drop it off while you are working?  If this is not feasible, is there an addrss I can mail you money?”

And then you bust your backside to make sure you follow up on getting that additional $5 or 10.00 to the waiter within the week because your integrity, honesty and self respect demands that you won’t rest until you keep your word.

Addendum:  It should go without saying that the waiter was rude.  It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to see the faux pas in this.  However, often my emphasis I will take (and have taken) on this site is to address how we should respond to these etiquette blunders without making the situation worse or engaging in our own etiquette goofs.  Had someone taken the initiative to quietly approach the waiter to explain the situation, offer apologies and address the need to fully compensate him for his services, there would have been no reason for the waiter to react as he did.  It’s pro-active good manners to defuse a potential problem before it occurs.

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I am of Asian descent (which is completely relevant) and I work in a bookstore when these things happen to me:

I had grabbed a tall stack of books and on my way to putting them on the shelves when an older gentleman had stopped in the middle of the aisle (which were still wide enough for plenty of room for people to pass), put his feet together, and bowed at me. By this time, I didn’t have enough time to do anything about it, and if I had stopped, that would have meant the stack of books happening on the floor but I didn’t know what he wanted to accomplish with the act. In Asian cultures, the only time when we would do something like that would be whenever we’re introducing ourselves or another. Even in a retail setting, something like this never happens between two complete strangers; perhaps during a transaction when patron of a store may thank a customer for his or her patronage.

Not only this, I also get questions such as, “Where are you from.” I usually answer that I’m from Chicago, as I sometimes have the accent, but of course, this is not what they’re asking. Instead of being able to deal with the situation and say that I’d rather not say, as it can be considered poor service on my part and may involve complaints on part of the customer in addition to solicitations of, “why not”, I lie and say that I was adopted and I have no idea. On the one hand, I can see that they might be really interested. On the other hand, it makes me ask whether they want to know because of some weird illegal immigrant issue they want to bring up, their need to be nosey, or to show of what limited (and usually incorrect) knowledge they have of the language of my heritage by trying to say a few random phrases.

I’m always confused in these moments and never know what to do.    0810-10

In the situations you presented,  I would assume good intentions of the customers and play right along.  In the case of the gentleman, despite it not being the correct time to bow to one another,   had I been you and encountered the customer again after disposing of my stack of books, would have bowed to him while smiling, perhaps even laughing.  He may very well have thought he was showing respect to you or making an awkward introduction of sorts and sometimes it’s a kindness to recognize those moments and help the other person climb over their own awkwardness.

I’ve played along with total strangers at shopping stores or out and about and often that can yield these little gems of time,  “these small hours, little wonders, these twists and turns of fate” as the song “Little Wonders” by Rob Thomas goes.  Two total strangers, probably never destined to meet again, share a joke,  a smile or a laugh.  It’s my personal “flash mob” moment.  It makes my day and I think it adds to the enjoyment of others.

As for asking about nationality, I admit I am quite guilty of this.   I am my family’s archivist and genealogist so people’s history and family names interest me greatly.  An unusual surname gets my curiosity juices flowing and I’d love to know that person’s ethnic heritage.  Being aware that this could be construed negatively, I weigh the appropriateness of the question  in context of the timing, how I am relating to that person, etc.  When I do ask, I phrase it thus, “You have an unusual or interesting surname I am not familiar with.  What is the ethnic heritage of that name?”   My experiences are that people are very proud of their heritage and not offended at all.  It’s also can be a conversation starter into different areas of discussion.   I feel I learn something, too.

“Where are you from?”, is the sloppy, awkwardly abrupt way many people communicate an interest in another person or as a way to start a small conversation.   *I’ve* even asked that question simply because I’m hearing an accent I cannot place and I’m trying to figure out where the person is from…although I ‘m more likely to phrase the question with, “I can’t place your accent.  Australian? South African? Where are you from?”  I live in a Southeastern state where one would assume all Southern accents are the same but there are at least four different variants of a NC accent (and lots more I’m sure) that can place where a person is from.  Once they have your locale pegged down, the next question you’ll likely to hear in North Carolina is, “Who is your daddy?” (pronounced “deady”) as they try to mentally fit you into the community as they know it.

You mention you are Asian but I would submit that one reason people ask for clarification as to where you are from is because “Asian” is an extremely broad classification.   Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Indonesian, Philippino,  Tibetan, Cambodian, Laotian, Vietnamese, Nepalese,  Malayasian, Mongolian,  Thai, and Sri Lankan are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head and I’m sure there are even more I’ve forgotten.  I know from experience that Japanese, for example, would be offended to be mislabeled as Korean.  I believe, therefore, that it can be a sign of respect to ask for  a clarification of where one is from (a person’s ethnic heritage) so that further communication is based on understanding and a desire to not offend inadvertently.

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This is one of my favorite YouTube channels. Creative and funny yet the creators do not resort to the tired and predictable tactic of using foul language.

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As part of my job (I am a journalist), I recently sat in on a training seminar for around 70 new teachers. During one portion, the teachers were reading and discussing a section on preparation for a new school year from a popular educator’s book. Each group then presented an idea from the book that they liked to the crowd. Several of the groups selected a “new teacher shower.”

You see, what the book suggests is that once you’ve obtained a position at a school you “ask a friend or family member to host a new teacher shower” so you can stock up on filing cabinets, folders and other supplies.

From what I could tell, I was the only one in the room who thought it was an awful suggestion. I’m marrying a teacher next year and have written about education for several years so I know all about the out-of-pocket costs many teachers face for supplies. But can you imagine asking your friends and family to buy you gifts because you got a job and have secured a regular paycheck? 0825-10

The idea of a “new teacher shower” and the person who dreamed up this “gimme” belong here…

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During my first year of grad school, I had trouble finding a quiet place to rent that fit my budget. At one point, I crossed paths with a man who was newly divorced, had a large house in an upscale neighborhood, and he wanted to rent a room out, very cheap, to a live-in housekeeper. Friends and family were initially concerned for me, a younger woman moving in with an older, single man, but I wasn’t worried, he seemed like an ordinary guy and his profession, home, and neighborhood all suggested it was a safe place to rent. A month later, he met a woman on-line and they went on a date. On their second date, he invited her to stay the night. As I had plenty of studies to keep me busy, and it was a very large house, I didn’t think anything of it - what goes on behind closed doors was none of my business.

About two the next morning, I woke to the distant - but loud - sounds of giggling, spanking, and assorted moans and howls of ecstasy. My bedroom door was shut, and the landlord’s bedroom was on the other side of the house, but from the volume of their enthusiastic love-making, I could tell he’d left his door open. Figuring the appropriate thing to do was be patient, I did nothing. After twenty minutes of continuous noise, I decided to study a while and hope that things would quiet down. After an hour, although impressed by their stamina, I was too embarrassed to confront the pair and I retired to the loft above the garage where it was slightly quieter, if not totally insulated from the din, and got a few more hours’ sleep on the sofa up there. When I left for class the next morning, I didn’t encounter anyone in the kitchen (I guess they needed to sleep in, which, given their exertions the night before, made sense).

As the day wore on, I felt more and more uncomfortable about what had happened. They knew I was in the house… why not keep it down, or at least shut the door? I spoke to few friends about it, and their reactions varied from astonishment to horror and they convinced me to find a new place to live. When I considered explaining to my landlord exactly why I was leaving, I felt so awkward that I said ‘forget it, just load up the car while he’s at work, leave a note, and never go back’ - which is what I did. Maybe there was a polite way to confront him about the issue, but even if I’d found the right words to say, I would still have wanted to move out.

I stayed in the only motel I could afford while I looked for a new place to rent. The motel had roaches, but at least they were quiet. 0824-10

When I was college aged, I encountered the same dilemma of unintentionally hearing my hosts engaged in some rather enthusiastic lovemaking.  I honestly don’t think the love-screechers have any clue how loud they are.

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Blooming cheek? Two-thirds of mothers-to-be are stocking up for their newborns with American-style baby showers

By Daily Mail Reporter (Read more here)
10th August 2010

They were once seen as an American tradition but the popularity of baby showers is soaring in Britain, according to a poll.

Two thirds of expectant mothers now plan to treat themselves to a pre-birth party.

The average mother-to-be can expect to receive gifts worth £150, according to the study by gift company Me to You.

These Brit mommies “plan to*treat* themselves” to a shower?  Good heavens, ladies, if you are going to assimilate an American custom, at least eat the meat and spit out the bad etiquette bones.

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A while back, we had an informal dinner party at our house and invited several friends.  We provided all the food and drink.  My invitation had said, “We had a fully-stocked bar, as you know, but if there’s anything in particular you like to drink that we may not have, please bring it.

One couple brought a bottle of wine and handed it to me ceremoniously as they came in the door.  Because I knew they weren’t wine drinkers (he’s much more of a rum guy, and she rarely drinks at all), I assumed it was a gift for the hosts.

Apparently not.  At the end of the evening, the husband noticed that the bottle hadn’t been opened and said, “Hey, since no-one drank that, we’ll just take it home again.”  I couldn’t believe my ears and thought that either he was joking or that I’d mis-heard.  Nope - he was on his way out the door and said, “Where’s that wine?”  I handed it to him without a word.   1101-08

The confusion here starts with the suggestion that guests “bring your own booze” (known here in the US as BYOB).  It may have been their offering for the dinner party bar to be drunk by other guests and when it was not opened, they took back possession of their own booze.  The fact that the husband wanted the wine back indicates he has some further use intended for it which may include drinking it.

Had you not suggested that guests BYOB and the bottle was given to you as described, then I would presume it to be a hostess gift which you are free to use for the function or save for later consumption.

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