Click here: No "reserving" a chair with all your crap

Notice how there are two empty chairs flanking this studious young man. Apparently, everyone in this bookstore has good manners. Or the bookstore is empty. I dunno. I didn't take the photo.

Apply the "two minute or less" rule when deciding to "reserve" a chair in a public place. Click the post title to listen.

Running time: 4 m 20 s.

Read the original letter that inspired this post. I'm with you, friend!

Got an etiquette beef of your own? Do share. Email me at etiquetteb[at]gmail[dot]com.

Wanna hear me talk in person? Join me in Ottawa at Podcasters Across Borders -- PAB2010. No bitching, just good education!

Who's my Target? Pharmacy.

Listen up, prescription-picker-uppers and pharmacy employees of the world: Ever hear of a little thing called privacy? Respect it, okay? The world does not need to hear that Grampa Jones is picking up Viagra.

Click "play" below (or click the title above) to listen. Running time: 5 m 6 s.





Have you ever had a nosy/intrusive pharmacy experience? Tell me in the comments.

Shut the fuck up

"I don't know how you people can drive these old junks around."

There's beauty in knowing when to keep one's mouth shut. Visiting someone's house? Meeting someone for the first time? Getting a ride home? Shut the fuck up with your offensive opinions.
Click "play" above to listen. Running time: 8 m 5 s.

Blogs/places/etc. mentioned in this podcast:

William Shunn - Writer and Podcaster
NachosatMidnite
Hopleaf Bar
Ask Amy

Garbage goes in -- shocker! -- garbage cans

I don't want to shop among your garbage.



Just because every store now has a coffee shop in it, and just because they are kind enough to let you drink and eat while you shop, doesn't mean the store is your personal dumpster.

Throw your effing garbage OUT. Find a trash can. I promise you there are about five by the doors, two near the bathrooms, one behind every cashier station, and, oh yeah, about three in that coffee shop where you purchased your now-garbage.

I don't buy that everyone is this "forgetful." Try "lazy." Resist the urge to be a lazy-ass, and carry your disgusting, used, ful-of-your-germs beverage cup a whopping two feet, and throw it out. Thank you.

Why I hate "people-of-cheap-store"

In case you haven't heard, there's this blog. It makes fun of, shall we say, not-so-attractive people (and cars) at the world's largest discounter.

First off, I don't know why big discounter (who, no, I don't like, either) isn't suing. I've studied photography, and the legalities of it, and to go into a business and photograph the property and anything in/on it is, technically, illegal.

And, no, I'm not above poking fun at WT myself. Ages ago, upon moving from Oh-So-Sophisticated San Francisco to Middle-America Indiana, I was appalled at the lack of class (and amount of girth) displayed at my local department store.

But I didn't broadcast it to the world.

And here's the thing: yes, those folks on that insulting blog may not be as attractive as your average ex-frat boy on the train, heading to his workaday 9 to 5 job. And, no, I probably wouldn't care to have a coffee with any of them, either.

But they're still people. And while those photographed might make some unfortunate hair or fashion choices, they are still people with feelings.

I've never had a taste for anything that intentionally aims to be mean-spirited. For that matter, I've long had a distaste for anything that, after 2 minutes, is boring.

And the blog to which I refer definitely falls into that category. Given the media-addicted public's fickle and ever-changing taste, I can only hope that those being insulted won't be much longer.

Take just one, please

Last week I was at one of those suites-only hotels that provides free dinner, complete with milk and cookies in the evening.

In general, I love those places, except when the food is so awful I wouldn't leave it out for the rats. Happily, this was not one of those places. The food was, well, good.

Every night, the cookies would disappear about 5 minutes into dinnertime. One evening, I popped into the lobby to snag a cookie...and they were all gone.

Pasta? Plenty. Green salad? Oh, I could have all the salad I wanted. Cheap wine? Abundant. But the cookie jar? Empty.

And then I saw why. One woman sat solo at a table, eating her dinner, plate piled high with pasta and salad. And next to her was a second plate....with four chocolate-chip cookies on it.

Listen, rude-asses, the hotel puts that stuff out for everybody. And you may not have noticed, but they also do not replenish the good stuff -- like cookies.

Realize that you're not the only person staying at the hotel. Take just one, please.

This rule applies whenever you're grabbing freebies -- leave some for the others.

Keep the personal questions to yourself, rude-o

A reader writes:

I went to a barbecue with my husband's family over the weekend. My husband's grandma asked us when WE would be having kids. We told her in the cutest way possible that the answer was never, if we could at all help it. She made a face and some sort of dismissive noise, and conversation moved on. She came back at me three more times with the same question, each time more and more unhappy at the answer she received. She informed me that I was being selfish, and that God would hate me for not having children.


Is it just me, or should people just butt the hell out of a personal decision like whether or not my husband and I choose to spawn?


There are so many ways the question, "When are you two having kids," could go wrong.

Ultimately, the choice to have or not have children is a deeply personal one that I believe should remain between a husband and wife. But, what if we make that leap to presume that it WAS Grandma's business? What gives her the right to tell us that we're horrible people because we're not making the same life choices she made?

Our reasons for not having children are numerous and very well thought out. Should we have to defend them over and over?

- A Reader

Dear Reader:

Short answer to your last question: No.

People everywhere, let's get this straight: asking about children, born, unborn or imagined in your head, is effing rude. No matter what -- whether the person is single, married, Mormon -- it's none of your business.

The wisdom here lies in the writer's third paragraph:

There are so many ways the question, "When are you two having kids?" could go wrong.

Yes, yes, yes. And this is so true for everyone -- those who want kids and those who don't.

Consider:

• -Maybe the couple can't have children due to some emotionally-painful medical reason.
• -Maybe they are trying, and that's causing them distress.
  
• -Maybe they've chosen not to reproduce

Either way, what they do with their reproductive organs is none of your business. Ever. Even if you think someone is pregnant and want to bring it up, don't.

Women who are newly pregnant don't talk about it for a variety of reasons, all which make sense: It's a medically sensitive time, they may not carry to term, they may not want it. No guessing games, stupid people.

Whether someone wants to reproduce or not is a personal decision. Please respect that, and keep your mouth shut.

Now, for those of you who get asked intrusive questions, here's some responses. Practice, practice, practice:

• -"Hmm, that's an interesting question. Why do you ask?" Then shut up and say nothing -- no matter what kind of clever "I want to know" answer they give you.
  
  
• -"Mmm...I'm sorry, that info is on a need-to-know basis." Tell them you'll let them know if they "need to know."
  
  
• -"Oh, we're still in our honeymoon phase!"*
  
  
• -"That's a rather personal question, don't you think?" (Then be quiet. Don't justify.)
  
  
• -"It's just not in the cards right now."

Readers, you never have to justify your life choices to anyone. Use a little polite deflection, be quiet, and don't offer up any more information. Then smile and change the subject.



*This one was shared by my 50-something friend who's been married for 25 years. Whenever she's asked, "Do you have children?" She always answers, "Oh, we're still in our honeymoon phase!" Thinking she married late, the questioner will always say, "Oh, when did you get married?" and she revels as she answers, "Twenty-five years ago!"

Can you bear to hear me carp about cell phones again?

This one is a bother to everyone within a 5-foot radius:

When you go shopping, whether it's at the grocery store, Target, Kmart, Macy's, the local general store, please look around and note that you are in a store and not a f***king phone booth.

Every time I run errands, there's some dunce either wandering aimlessly among the aisles, blathering away, usually about some interesting-only-to-them personal problem; or some other dunce who walks in yapping on the phone, s/he grabs a cart, and then parks it right in front of the very item I need.

Both are irritating, especially when, as is usually the case, the yapper is loud, and doesn't really care if innocent bystanders have to hear about how her emotionally stunted boyfriend can't commit.

In a store? Here's a novel idea: stash the phone and shop.


* please note that there's nothing wrong with taking a quick call in the store -- sometimes you're needed. But a half-hour blather fest that really should be at home with a glass of wine? Not in the store.

Texing in the present

Nothing chafes my hide as much as someone texting. I've been racking my brain, trying to think of an example of when text-messaging is polite, and, in truth, unless you're by yourself, with no one around (or possibly on public transportation), then it's okay to text.

Yes, I realize it's quick. Yes, I know it takes you "just a minute."

But when you're spending time with the words on the phone, you're ignoring those around you. This is called "not being present" or "not being in the moment," or just plain "rude."

Yes, I know you are physically there. But once you take your attention away from whatever is happening before you -- to take a cell phone call, to text, to check the sports scores -- you've just taken yourself away from the people and doings in front of you.

And an important life rule to remember is that the person in front of you is always more important than the person (or sports score) on the phone. Any successful sales person knows this -- now, let's all know this. And let's live it.

When did rudeness become acceptable?

I'm really pissed off at businesses and marketers who think that rudeness is "okay" or "funny."

There's an ad on TV right now for some Orwellian-like telephone that has a TV screen and internet connection built right in. (Shoot me before I ever have 1984 in my own kitchen.)

In this pathetic ad, a mom reads a recipe from her 1984-device, works hard in the kitchen to make paella for her family, then sends a mass text to tell them, "Paella tonight!" Her asshole of a son, then, video-texts her back saying, "I have no idea what puh-ella is, but I'm NEVER eating it!" (I imagine if the FCC weren't monitoring our every word and wardrobe malfunction, said asshole son would've concluded with, "How dare you make me dinner, You fucking bitch! ")

Crestfallen by her asshole son, Commercial Mom then tosses the paella and orders a pizza. Um, doormat much?

When someone makes you dinner, especially your MOM, you say "thank you" and you eat it, barring life-threatening food allergies. I'm reminded of how I was raised. My gram, ever the devout Catholic, only served fish on Fridays. I've never liked fish. When Fridays rolled around at Gram's, I'd carp (ha! pun intended) and whine, "I don't like fish."

Mom's wise response? "Then don't eat it. Go hungry."

And I did.

Thanks, mom.

At the gym

Sigh. It's that most frustrating time of year again -- the time when all the "New Years Resolutioners" come out of the woodwork and clog up the gyms.

But I'm not so sure it's the Resolutioners I have a beef with. It's any rude person at the gym.

Do you attend a gym or health club? If so, please read below. Yes, this is for you.

Good guidelines for the gym

• Does your health club provide towel service? Yes? Please use one.
  
  
• If you are naked in the locker room and must sit down, put one of those effing towels down FIRST before placing your naked ass on the seat. Your rump-hole is filled with bacteria, and I'm sure most of us would rather not encounter yours.
  
  
• Do not enter any workout class late. Ever. Yes, real life happens, but late arrivals disrupt the class and cause a distraction. Yes, I know you really wanted to attend Yoga for Rudeasses, but walking in late -- even five minutes late-- is a massive disruption. Don't. Just walk your big ass over to a treadmill or the elliptical, and spend the next hour there. Those of us in deep meditation thank you.
  
  
• Besides, you should be arriving early for class to change your shoes, warm up, etcetera.
  
  
• Leave your fucking cell phone in a locker. Nothing's more annoying than someone yapping about his job while you're trying to get some fitness in. Not to mention: talk on your cell while exercising, and you've just killed the effectiveness of what little exercise you're getting.
  
  
• Taking yoga? Shut the fuck up. It escapes me why two people -- men and women alike -- find the need to set up for yoga, and then sit on their mats and talk until class starts. Look around at the start of a yoga class -- people are breathing, meditating, centering themselves. You're wrecking that, Mr. or Ms. Talker. Now shut up and breathe.

I fully expect to see good behavior in action at my gym from now on. If I can actually attend a class without some rude-ass entering late (and the teacher allowing it), I'll know y'all listened.

Ravinia fist fight over rudeness

Okay, finally, some comic relief from that boring wet noodle from Alaska:

Ravinia Festival turf war, food fight hospitalizes Arlington Heights man, cops say

By Bob Channick |Special to the Chicago Tribune

12:36 PM CDT, September 4, 2008

A dispute over lawn space erupted into a turf war that sent one man to the hospital before a sold-out Donna Summer concert Saturday at the Ravinia Festival in Highland Park, police said.

After setting up their blankets, chairs and a tarp, a group of concertgoers from Arlington Heights left for a restaurant. Returning an hour later, they found their belongings displaced by a Chicago group, which they confronted.

A woman in the Chicago group tried to attack a woman from the returning group, police said. A 40-year-old Chicago man then punched a 49-year-old Arlington Heights man, prompting a wine-and-cheese splattering melee, police said.

The Arlington Heights man was taken by ambulance to Highland Park Hospital, where he received 15 stitches, while the Chicago man was charged with battery.

I have to agree with many of the Trib's comment-posters; to "set up shop" at a festival and leave is rude. "Move your meat, lose your seat" as one poster put it. Yes, I know in a perfect world we can claim a front-row seat at the Free Andrew Bird concert or any outdoor fest; dine at a 4-star restaurant and then return to find our seat unscathed. Sadly, this is not the reality. Either bring your dinner with you, or wait until your later arrival time to claim your seat.

Personally, I'm snickering a little that a fight broke out at Ravinia. I've wanted to pop the cell-phone yakkers there myself.

On "thank you," and asking for a sandwich

This week's earlier post about rudeness on the best show ever ("Swingtown") inspired a reader to call me and vent about her pet peeve: rudeness in commercials.

Yes, caller, I have to agree with you.

First off, commercials these days just flat-out suck. They're not creative or engaging, and they're violent and stupid. No wonder kids are desensitized to violence -- it's being shown to them as a given in 30-second increments. Example: a woman is pissed off at her boyfriend, so she shoves his truck down the side of a mountain.

What kills me is these moronic pieces of mini-film making give a "warning" in 2-pt font white text on the screen (in a spot where no one looks) that says, "do not attempt." Many advertisers need to be shot.

Okay, back to my point: my caller hates the commercial where a kid walks into a kitchen and says, "Hey Mom, how about a sandwich?" and 10 seconds later, his rude-ass dad does the exact same thing.

People, the correct phrasing is: "Mom, could I please have a sandwich?" or "May I have a sandwich, please?"

It's called asking politely, folks. "Please" and "thank you" go a long way in this world.

And I'm happy to say, after viewing many of these mind-numbingly stupid commercials, I can't even tell you the brand or product they are pushing.

Common Sense, Some Good Manners

Random thoughts I hope you all put into practice:

1. Again, don't eat unpaid-for food in the grocery store. It's not your food yet, you're spreading germs, and just plain uncouth.

The free samples that the store distributes are fair game.

2. When you need to get past someone, say, "Excuse me." Do not just stand in front of them, or muster past, or physically touch or bump them. It's rude.

3. Road rage or parking rage is bad. And not worth it.

Twice last week, I saw one person who was waiting for "his" parking spot stop the car, get out and yell at the other driver who "stole" his spot. It was almost comical, really, for the passersby witnessing: Pissed-off guy was yelling at the woman who parked, "You're the devil! Bad things are going to happen to you because you're the devil!"

I can't imagine, however, it was too nice for her. (I've been on the receiving end of such a maniac, and it's actually a scary place to be.) When someone "wrongs" you in traffic, let it the fuck go. It's never worth it. You're getting upset over a parking spot? Or whatever, traffic-related? You're health, sanity, and psychic energy just are not worth all the rage and wasted energy it will cause you.

What was unbelievable about the Pissed Off Guy was he spent five minutes minimum (I watched) yelling at this poor woman, and, honestly, she was in the right. When you "wait" for a parking spot, the correct way to "claim" it (little that you can): you wait behind the car that's leaving, not in front of it, as this guy had done. He was wrong; she was right.

After yelling at "devil woman" for 5 minutes, and scaring her into leaving, Mr. Pissed Off Asshole parked in the spot for all of 60 seconds: he ran in to the dry cleaners, got his shirt, and left. Really? You couldn't have illegally parked for 60 seconds, Mr. Asshole?

Entering and Exiting a Restaurant

Chicago doesn't have year-round lovely weather, so it's a treat for us Windy Citiers to dine out at one of those lovely places with open french doors during the summer.

Now, let's make a key distinction here: french doors are actually more like big windows that happen to swing open when weather permits.

A door is the opening through which you enter and exit a room, house, or place of business.

When it's time to leave, lovely people, exit through the second one. How did you enter the restaurant? My guess is you didn't climb through the french doors, disturbing the nice people eating nearby. Exit through the regular door, same as you came in, and don't disturb the nice folks enjoying their meals.

To walk to the front of the restaurant, cut through tables, and then step out through the french doors is plain boorish and rude. Don't do it.

Email and Text Never Die.

File this one under a "business" and "personal" etiquette lesson:

1. Watch what you say in electronic communication.

2. If you have something important to communicate (such as "You're fired," "You piss me off," "No, I'm not giving you your money," "I'm dumping you," etc.) do it in person -- not via email or text.

Emails and text messages can and will come back to haunt you. From an etiquette perspective, communicating important or (worse yet) hurtful or angry messages via electronic media is just downright disrespectful. There is a person on the receiving end.

It's appalling that there have been firings and breakups via text message.

And, leaving good manners out of it for a minute, should the receiver ever need to circle back to you, say, in court, you wouldn't want these nasty missives shown to the judge, now would you? This happens all the time on The People's Court and the myriad court shows out there.

Now, for those of you who have some sort of legal bent, such as, "at my job we have to document everything," that's fine, as long as it's done professionally and without attack. But those personal messages? Communicate in person.

I once received a nasty email telling me how "miserable every aspect" of my wedding was, and how the letter-sender "was sorry she had to sit through it." Don't worry, EB has never forgotten this person -- and will never extend kindness to her, either. And yep, the email still exists.

So, today's lesson:

1. When you have something important to communicate, do it in person.
2. If you must document your communication, be polite and leave the negativity out of it.
3. Email and text messages never die.

Got it? Good.

What does your living room look like?

What pisses you off the most when you go to the movies?

The outlandish prices of tickets and snacks? The insane length and amount of trailers you must endure? The tortuous commercials? (I paid to come to a movie, and now you're advertising to me?)

Or is it the boors in the theater who think that a movie theater is their own fucking living room? (Note: this may be you.I know, you think you're an angel at the Landmark; you're not. Please keep reading.) They talk throughout the movie, never daring to lower their voices to a minimal whisper, and/or talk incessantly.

The respectful thing to do when watching any performance-- live or filmed -- is to keep quiet. There's nothing wrong with an occasional, softly-whispered "What did he say?" But other than that, folks of all ages, keep the chatter to a bare, bare, minimum. Non-existent is best.

And I do say "folks of all ages" because, kind of like the creeps you see on "Dateline: To Catch A Predator," you can't classify these loud morons. They come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. My two worst:

1. A Thursday night 2 summers ago, "Little Miss Sunshine," Landmark Century Cinema. You figure a weekday night crowd will be more tolerable than a Friday or Saturday night. You think wrong.
   
   Seated to my right was an elderly couple, as old as my grandparents. This was the generation that had manners, right? "The Greatest Generation," as Tom Brokaw would say. Well, from my 101 minute experience, these two were The Rudest Generation.
   
   They talked through the whole damn movie in what I would call the "water cooler voice." Not quiet at all. And what's worse, the husband was a "predictor." He would announce his guess on what would happen next to the whole audience.
   (Spoiler Alert--Plot Points of "LMS" coming up) For instance:
   

   
   

   • "Oh, he's going to take the moped and go to Albuquerque."
   • "She's going to ask him about the suicide."
   • "They're going to sneak the body out the window."

   
   
   Their yakking was only compounded by the moment when everything comes together in the movie, and Gramma and Grampa Rude decided to open their plastic grocery bag and debate over which 100-calorie snack pack they should eat.
   
   
2. During that awful turd that Judd Apatow dropped, "Movie About Fat, Ugly, Abusive Asshole who Knocks Up Lame Chick, and Yet She Loves Him," Davis Theater, god knows when.
   
   Forgettable movie, unforgettable assholes seated next to me. Said assholes were a couple in their late 20s- mid30s. Every moment on the screen was punctuated by one Rude Lovebird sharing thoughts with the other Rude Lovebird, who would then continue stream of consciousness. Example:
   
   

   Girl: [stoner character walks into frame] "That guy looks just like Dave!"
   Guy: "I know!" [they giggle to each other] "Wouldn't it be funny if Dave wore shorts like that?"
   Girl: "I know, we should ask him if he's seen this movie."
   [2 seconds of silence pass, then:]
   Guy: "Hey, should we call Dave and go out tomorrow?"
   Girl: "Yeah, maybe, but we should see if Darcy wants to go with us?"
   Guy: "Yeah, that would be cool."
   Etiquette Bitch [leaning over and touching Rude Girl's arm]:
   "I'm sorry, please stop talking."

   
   
   Girl made a snotty face, but it sure as hell shut them up for the rest of that turd. Granted, it was a sucky movie, but I paid to hear the movie, not your rude ass yap away all night.
   
   
   A movie theater -- hell, any public venue -- is not your living room. Look at your living room some time--and note how it does not resemble a movie theater. When you're in your living room, yak away.
   
   Are you in a movie theater? Is it dark? Is a movie playing on the screen? If "yes" to any, shut the fuck up.
   

Aww, you got a present. Now say, "thank you," lazy-ass.

Yes, the true spirit of a "gift" is to give something with no expectations of anything in return.

But, hell, a "thank you" would be nice. Written, preferrably.

Look, people: the gift-giver spent time, money and energy. The least you can do is say -- verbally and written -- "thank you."

There's an unfortunate trend going around right now -- helped along by the retail paper, wedding industry, and photo-ordering sites, no doubt-- of these stupid "photo thank yous."

I'm sad to say that I've received my unfortunate fair share of these lazy, thoughtless photos posing as thank-yous. These flimsy photos have landed in my mailbox after weddings, christenings, and children's birthday parties. The photo cards are pre-ordered by the clueless parents (or, in one case, bride) before the occasion. Immediately after said party, to which I drove over an hour, purchased a gift with my good money, and spent my time watching you corral your brats (or get married, whatever), the lazy parent or lazy bride then shoves a pre-printed photo card with a photo of guest of honor into an envelope, does not include a personalized note, and sends it off.

Frankly, I'm offended. (see effort, time, driving, money, etc. cited above)

Whenever someone makes the effort to show up for you, and has gone to time and expense to bring you a gift, take 30 seconds, grab some note paper, and write a couple sentences of thanks, then spend 42 cents and mail it, lazy ass.

It's Not Your Food -- Yet.

Again and again, Etiquette Bitch finds herself shaking her head asking, "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" The answer, unerringly, is "no."

When I was a little girl, Mom took me to the local WiseWay to grocery shop. Not eat. That's what you do at home in the privacy of your own dining room.

About 10 years ago, I was shopping in Andronico's with my friend Tina. Apparently, she was hungry. She brandished a bag of cookies. "I'm starving. I'm going to eat one of these now," she said.

"Are you kidding me?" I said.

"What? Don't you just eat in the grocery store when you're hungry?" she asked.

"No. That's rude. It's not your food yet; you haven't paid for it." I also mentioned to her I thought it was disgusting--when you open food and eat, you've got germs and bacteria flying around. And who knows where your hands have been.

Tina ate a cookie, then sheepishly stowed the bag in her cart, to be paid for later. After that day, Tina loved to gush at parties about how, "Etiquette Bitch thinks I'm rude for eating cookies in the store."

Well, yes, I do. And I'm still appalled to see this happening. Today, ~ 2 pm, Whole Foods Evanston, the checkout line. A little imp of about 9 years old was helping push his mom's cart into line behind me. He whined about how heavy it was (it was; the woman was cramming a month's worth of groceries into one of those half-carts); he started to unload the cart onto the conveyor belt, and then he yelled for the cashier who was waiting on the guest ahead of me. He jiggled a Stonyfield Farms yogurt in his hand. "Excuse me! Excuse me! Do you have a spoon?" he called out three times, before the cashier, bless her, answered him.

"No, I don't have a spoon," she said.

Okay -- let's just pause here for a moment and examine this situation. The kid is in the checkout line. He will be out of the store and free to eat in 3-5 minutes, if that. And he has to yell two customers ahead to get a fucking spoon so he can eat right now.

So, of course, the impatient brat didn't wait. "Do you know where I can get a spoon?" he called.

"They're in the cafe," said the cashier.

The kid blew outta there, and in a flash, he was back, plastic spoon in hand. He ripped open the yogurt faster than you can say "Stonyfield Farm," and had three spoonfuls shoved in -- most of it dripping down his chin--before his mom asked him to go get yet another item, because she needed four--not three-- pounds of butter. He kept shoveling and guess where the yogurt ended up? Some on him, some on the groceries.

What galled me, too, is that the mother stood there, ignoring: his yelling, his impatience, and his mess . Why are we not teaching our kids patience? A two-minute wait would not have killed him.


NOTE/UPDATE: I will allow that when the grocery store is handing out free samples, chow away. They are giving you the food. The unopened bag -- you haven't paid for it. And how grimy/uncouth is it to ask the cashier to ring up your opened, empty bag that just had your food-coated hands all over it?

I recall another food store visit when the woman ahead of me in line had just snarfed down a candy bar. She then handed the grimy, chocolate-smeared, torn wrapper to the cashier with a, "here."

Folks, I don't care how hungry you are. You're not supposed to go shopping on an empty tummy. You spend a ton more money that way. If you're hungry on the way to the grocery store, go get a cookie at Starbuck's, or drive through some fast-food joint, and chow down. Eating food you haven't yet purchased is not only rude, it's pretty disgusting. I'd even say unethical -- you have yet to pay for it.

The food isn't yours 'til you pay for it. Wait until you get to the car, then snarf away. Believe me, Etiquette Bitch does this regularly with her bulk chocolate and bananas.

Bringing and Receiving Wine: Guests and Hosts

There seems to be a lot of confusion over whether guests should bring wine, and what should be done once the vino is proffered.

Let's straighten this out, shall we?

It's nice to bring wine, whether or not the host asked. As a host, it's okay to have a BYOB party. Keep reading to know what not to do in both sitches.

For the Guest

Scenario #1: You're invited to a dinner party. Host has asked for nothing, but you bring a bottle of wine.

First off, good on you for the nice manners. A certain etiquette columnist scoffs at the idea of bringing wine as "admission" to a dinner party. I don't think anyone thinks of it as "admission," merely the right thing to do.

Didn't your mom ever teach you, "never show up empty handed"? If she didn't, you should have at least heard this from Deepak Chopra.

When you're a dinner guest, it's nice to bring something--dessert, wine, even a nice card. Conventional wisdom says, "don't bring flowers -- it's extra work for the host!" but I disagree. I love flowers, I love people who bring me flowers, I love bringing my friends flowers.

For the Host and Guest

But back to the wine. When nothing was requested, the good host will thank you, and perhaps put it out, or she may set it aside. It's also nice if the host asks, "Would you like me to open this now?" The proper response is something along the lines of, "Whatever you want." It's rude to make a host feel like she HAS to open and drink your bottle right there. Besides, what if she's a recovering alcoholic?

If you're the host, never ever do what Jan on "The Office" did and say, "Oh, good, we'll use this for cooking."

Also, if you've brought wine, do not, under any circumstances, ask for or take it back at the end of the night. It's classless, and looks cheap. I once hosted a dinner where we could not open all the wine that was brought. I was once told by one guest, on her way out the door, "Go ahead and keep the wine." Um, yeah, I was planning to do exactly that.

For the Host: BYOB Parties

Scenario #2: You've indicated your party is BYOB (acceptable) and everyone brings wine.

Leave it out for partygoers to enjoy.

I once attended an engagement party where we were told on the invite, "Bring wine or presents." Okay, demanding anything is rude, but I played along and brought a nice vintage. I arrived, handed my wine to the host, and watched as she promptly turned and stowed it in her liquor cabinet for her personal use. Rude.

So, got it? Bring wine as a nice gesture; as the host, leave it out. Good.