Etiquette Lessons for Humans

My dearest Stephanie,

My morning routine begins with dropping off my little boy at school. Well, I guess technically, it begins with me getting out of bed, partaking in a series of complex grooming activities, getting my little boy’s clothes, breakfast, etc. But no one’s really interested in the minutiae, like whether I put in my contact lenses before or after I wash my face, right? (But if you are, I put them in after, obviously, since my hands are freshly washed. Duh.)

Anyway, after I drop him off, I head directly to Dunkin’ Donuts. I always order the same thing: a large coconut iced coffee and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. I take out whatever book I’m reading for inspiration and read for approximately an hour before heading off to Starbucks (located about 1/2 a mile down the road). There, I order an iced venti green tea (unsweetened) and write for an indeterminate period of time (also known as: however long my muse sticks with me). But again, I’m getting off topic.

When my gorgeously fabulous little boy was a toddler, I’d take him to places like Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts for a treat. It was super fun hanging out with him and watching his pudgy little fingers rip through a bagel or scone or whatever. He always made a huge mess, and I would carefully wipe up all the crumbs before leaving the establishment so that the next person who sat at the table we’d been sitting at would have a CLEAN spot to sit and enjoy some quiet time.

Because you know what? We’re not animals. I do not assume the good people employed at Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks are obligated to clean up after us. Yes, it’s their job to maintain the store, but if we make an inordinately large mess, why should they have to clean it up? I have hands, fingers, thumbs, access to napkins.I’m trying to teach the boy to treat himself and others and his environment (and The Environment) respectfully. What kind of lesson am I teaching him if upon making a huge mess, we saunter out leaving the minions to clean it up? I mean, what’s next? We expect them to follow us into the bathroom to wipe our asses?

When I said we’re not animals, I was thinking of my cat. She has a vomiting problem. What happens is that she scarfs down her food not realizing when she has reached capacity. She’ll take a few steps away from her bowl, throw up the meal (usually right into the grate through which the forced heat emanates), lick her lips, then casually stroll away with a look over her shoulder at me. It’s clear what I’m supposed to do. That’s cool. I get that she can’t clean up after herself, what with her not having thumbs and all, and I don’t mind doing it.

You know what I do mind? When I walk into Dunkin’ Donuts, and every table  looks like a muffin exploded on it. I don’t blame the employees, who are doing their best to keep the long lines moving quickly and can’t rush out to wipe down the tables every time some entitled jackass leaves a trail of crumbs (approximately every five minutes), Hansel and Gretel style. I blame the assholes who, like me, think it’s cute when their kids make a mess but who, unlike me, do not feel it necessary to clean up after themselves. I’m already annoyed with them because they drive enormous SUVs (I speak of the Tahoes, the Explorers, the Dennalis) that raise my gas prices and almost crash into me on a routine basis (because they can’t see my little station wagon, what with me being in a different stratosphere and all. Also, why does the government require special licenses for boats but not for cars large enough to sail across the ocean if only you could make them seaworthy? I ask you, why?!). Also? Those same assholes think it’s cute when their children run endless laps through the store while squealing at a glass-shattering pitch. Guess what, people? It’s not cute. It’s annoying. Think about it.

As a final note, when you’re in a public place, and you want to use the restroom, and it’s a one person restroom, here’s what you SHOULD NOT DO (forgive my shouting but really!): Do not employ a team of wild horses to attempt to pull open the bathroom door. First of all it’s jarring to the person inside, even if they have remembered to lock the door, and this could–let’s say just for the sake of argument–cause them to spray urine all over the bathroom in their fright, which again gives so much unnecessary work to employees charged with maintaining the restrooms. If the person inside the restroom has forgotten to lock the door, you may be treated to quite the unpleasant sight. I’ll skip the details.

Instead, why not try knocking? It’s simple, yet effective. If it’s too noisy to hear what’s going on, why not gently push the door handle down? If the bolt stays put, then you’ll know someone is inside. Again, simple, yet effective.

Forgive the rant, but really, I feel so strongly about these matters!

love,

Stella