It's true, etiquette was drummed into me at an early age. It was all about the please and thank you and being a good little girl to the point of absurdity. Of course, ever since email, texting and cell phones, the whole concept of etiquette has pretty much gone out the window, along with courtesy and respect. At this point, you may be thinking, gee the SJG sure sounds... what's the word I'm searching for?... oh, yes. Old. I know, I know. And the place it gets the best of me is dance class. In dance class, there are certain inherent rules the teacher expects student to observe: respect, courtesy and your full, undivided attention. When students ignore dance class etiquette, I go a little meshuggie. I try not to say anything, but it's so challenging. Take Sunday, if you will. The aging, elegant jazz gals found ourselves at an unfamiliar studio due to a lost time slot at our usual place. While the owner showed our beloved teacher, nearly 81 years young, the sound system, a certain gal, someone who recently reemerged after a three or four year absence, kept yakking on her cell phone. Uh oh. In rapid succession, my metaphorical tutu bunched up, my close friend Trixie (not her real name, not even close) looked at me, and I went all Miss Manners.
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| Note to self |
"Can you take that outside?" I whispered politely to the cell phoner. "Don't tell me what to do," she said, flashing a freaky-psycho killer-smile. Yikes. I've known her 15 years, at least. "I'm just asking you to please take your call outside." She shot me a venomous look and retreated outside. It was yet another lesson in picking my battles. Playing the Etiquette Cop only bought me aggravation, and who doesn't have enough of that, already?
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