Should you disrupt your primary job function to be "nice"?

But I was just trying to be nice...

Last weekend, I left the cottage with my kids to return to Toronto for an afternoon engagement.  I had just enough time to get there with one coffee stop and one bathroom break. Yes,  I should have given myself more time but that's another story.

Feeling groggy and facing a three-hour car trip, I decided to pick up some coffee at a local coffee shop to steel myself for the trip. I won't name the coffee chain here but it is a huge chain with a great deal of Canadian share of heart and a long history in this country.  Some would characterize their coffee as uninspired but I like it.  It's mild and reliable and I know exactly how it will taste and that appeals to me. 

Mindful of my impending deadline, I checked the drive-thru line and since there were only two cars in it, I calculated I could complete my transaction in five minutes, seven if someone was ordering a sandwich.  I would have gone into the store but I was alone with my kids and wasn't in the mood for what would happen if they came face to face with the doughnut display case.

When I joined the drive-thru line, I was third.  One car was at the window already and another had just placed an order.  After ten minutes, the line hadn't budged and new cars had joined in behind me.  I assumed that perhaps the driver in the first car had ordered breakfast for several people and it was taking a while to microwave the eggs and sausage.  After 15 minutes,  there were eight cars behind me and I started to worry that something was wrong and the mechanism that signals waiting cars to the drive-through was malfunctioning.  So, jammed in a static line with no way out, I did something I almost never do.  I honked my horn, quickly and only once.  Seconds later, a furious voice came through the order speaker announcing that the staff of this particular coffee chain do not appreciate it when people in the drive-thru honk their horns and to stop it at once.

Soundly put in my place, I slunk down in my seat and waited my turn.  Finally the first car drove off, the second one was dealt with quickly and I sheepishly pulled up to the window.  If looks could kill, I wouldn't be here to write this post so, I smiled wanly at the clerk and explained hat I had honked my horn because I became frustrated with the delay and lack of communication.  She smiled back and said, "Oh, that's okay. The driver of the first car was going somewhere and asked us for directions.  Two of us were trying to help him get where he was going."

I was floored.  I know that she truly believed that by explaining that the holdup was due to their efforts to be nice, I would trade in my impatient attitude for a newly-acquired appreciation of their sense of community. Sadly, it had the opposite effect.  Although I didn't verbalize it, inside I was thinking, "I waited for 20 minutes so you could give someone driving directions?"  At this point, I just wanted to pay for my coffee and get out of there, which I did, after lifting the lid to make sure all looked normal.

I fumed all the way home and pondered why I was so upset about what was, at its base, a gesture of kindness.  It occurred to me that, in our paid work, whatever that might be, we all have things that are considered our primary function.  A plumber's primary function is to repair broken pipes, a coffee chain employee's primary function is to serve coffee and in my role as a freelance communicator, my primary function would be to communicate on behalf of my clients.  In the course of our day to day life, we also encounter requests for help or other interruptions, that do not coincide with the primary functions of our paid work but could be considered part of the primary function of our existence as human beings and citizens in a society.  But we can't respond to everything that is put in our path. We need to assess, consider the consequences and make decisions.  While most people would willingly arrive late at a meeting so they can help the victim of a car accident, it's probably not a good idea to make customers wait 20 minutes for coffee so you can tell someone how to get to a bed and breakfast.  In this case, there was an easy fix.  The coffee chain employee could simply have asked the driver to pull over, come into the store and wait until there was a lull in the customer traffic.  

Later on that day, I tweeted to the coffee chain that I had experienced a service disruption in one of their franchises.  They responded immediately and suggested I call their guest services line so that I might explain the situation in detail the next morning.  I did so, spoke with a wonderful woman who apologized profusely and promised to follow up with the store in question.  

Overall, I was pleased with the customer service response and I hung up the phone, relieved that, despite a small blip, I had been treated with respect and kindness and could continue to patronize my favourite coffee shop. 

Is it still rude to wear a hat indoors?

But it's part of my outfit...


I was at a business event the other night with about 200 other people.  The guest speaker was great and the topic was relevant but throughout the night, I was distracted by something that other people may not have noticed - a young man wearing a fedora indoors.

The 'No Hats Inside Rule' was strictly enforced in my childhood home and is so ingrained in my psyche that when someone violates this etiquette guideline, it just feels wrong, like snow in summer or a cheerful DMV employee.

I have carried over this particular rule to my own home and family.  My kids and their visiting friends know they are not allowed to wear their hats inside and absolutely must remove them for meals. If I'm out for dinner with my peers and one keeps a hat on during the meal, I would never ask them to remove it (that would be rude) but it will annoy me for the duration. Of course, that is my problem, not theirs.

But times change and well-intentioned rules are relaxed or abandoned all together for reasons of practicality or enlightenment. The rule of removing hats indoors was established decades ago when men regularly wore hats outside to protect them from the elements.  They removed the hat indoors so that the elements (rain, dirt, etc.) did not fall onto meals or other people.  Where did they put their hats?  Well they probably checked them with a coat attendant who knew how to properly store them so they didn't get smushed.  It's unlikely that the same service is available today in most establishments.

Today, hats are a fashion statement for both genders and can be such a part of one's "look" that asking someone to remove their hat is akin to suggesting that they take off their shoes.  There are other things to consider.  Many of the etiquette rules that formed the North American approach to acceptable social behaviour were written at a time when the population (or at least the ruling class) was homogeneous in terms of religion and therefore, didn't take into account the need to observe the customs of faith by wearing hats or head coverings indoors.  The Emily Post Institute notes this in its updated, more modern list of acceptable places to wear hats, as well as the fact that cancer patients need not worry about this rule.

So, like so many other "old-fashioned" guidelines, the "no hat" rule will probably fall by the wayside in the next few years for reasons that include an embrace of different cultures and a general relaxation of appropriate attire.  I can accept that, but I don't think I will ever be able to stomach a baseball hat worn indoors at any time.

What do you think?  Do you have guidelines about hats in your home?  Does it annoy you when a man doesn't remove a fedora indoors?  Would you even notice?

How About Some RFP Etiquette?

So, did we win?

The Request for Proposal (RFP) is popular these days.  With shrinking budgets and increased pressure to demonstrate due diligence, more organizations are issuing RFPs to ensure they choose the right external partner, or at least create the perception of doing so.  When consultants choose to participate in an RFP process, they do so knowing that they may not win and even if they do, they will probably never recoup the hours of unpaid time they spent responding to the proposal.  When the search ends, there will be one winner and multiple losers but all candidates should be treated with respect, honesty and professionalism.  If organizations insist on using RFPs, I'd like to see them adopt these etiquette guidelines for issuing, managing and closing the process:

1. Be honest - I recently reviewed an RFP that painted a rosy picture of a company but a quick Google search revealed the organization was in a shambles. Why hide this?  No one can prepare a thorough, appropriate response if they don't have the necessary background and context.

2. Share your process - RFPs are a ton of work so help people decide if it's worth participating. Share your plans for decision-making - the deadline for proposal submission, what should be included, when the shortlist will be announced, what is involved in phase 2, when you will make your final decision and how you will inform participants.  If an incumbent has been invited to participate, be honest about that.  It's important.


3. Don't kick tires - Most of the research, writing and collation of RFPs is done after hours and on top of an existing work load.  Don't issue an RFP unless you have the budget and the intention of hiring an external partner. Nothing is more frustrating than putting hours of unpaid time into a proposal only to find out that you've decided to manage your campaign "in house".

4. Answer questions thoroughly - If candidates have questions for clarification, take the time to provide proper answers.  The best approach is to collect all of the questions and combine both questions and answers in one document.  One-word answers or responses like "whatever you think is best", "anything goes" or "wow us" are unacceptable.

5. Don't ask for ideas - It's unrealistic to expect anyone to provide creative, feasible ideas based on a couple of paragraphs in your RFP.  Phase 1 is about qualifying candidates, and looking for expertise, experience, case studies, references, etc.  If you narrow the pool to a shortlist, meet with them to provide the information they need to develop workable ideas. Better yet, wait until you've actually hired someone.


6. Remove the guessing game - If you have a budget (and you should if you're serious), share it, or at least include a range. If consultants have no idea what they're working with, it's impossible to provide the best case studies and references and brainstorm appropriate ideas.  


7. Avoid the revolving door - It's efficient to book several presentations on one day but try to hold them in a room with two doors or leave time between visits.  It's awkward for everyone when candidates meet each other in the hallway.

8. Practice proper follow-up - No one should ever find out they didn't win an RFP in AdNews.  Acknowledge receipt of all proposals and honour the dates in your initial process. If you are delayed for some reason, let people know when they can expect to hear from you again.  When you choose a winner, inform the unsuccessful parties before making any announcements.

9. Use only what you pay for - I recently participated in an RFP which stated that all submitted ideas, even from consultants who didn't win the business, would automatically become the property of the issuing company.  Why should they?  If you choose a partner and start to pay them, you can use their ideas but it's unethical to use creative ideas from an agency you didn't select.

10. Give feedback - If someone has spent hours of unpaid time responding to your RFP, they deserve more than a cursory dismissal.  Let unsuccessful candidates know where they fell short and provide candid feedback to help them with future proposals. If you have been honest and professional about your RFP process, you should have no problem articulating how you made your final decision and what they could have done better.

Should You Interview Your Childhood Bully?

Why me?


I didn't have a childhood bully.  Like every other kid I had moments of extreme humiliation and embarrassment as a result of occasional bullying but I didn't have my own personal bully, someone who picked on me relentlessly over a long period of time.

But I witnessed a lot of bullying and mean-girling as a child and teenager and while I didn't actively participate, I'm ashamed to say that I stood on the sidelines and never attempted to rescue someone from their tormentor.  My parents taught us the importance of kindness and compassion but for most of my school life, my desire to fit in was greater than any sense of obligation to help others.  Looking back, I can see that I was just too insecure in my own skin to come to the defense of someone else.  Although I squirmed when I saw girls being bullied, I was just so relieved that it wasn't me that I stayed silent.  My inability to speak up has haunted me in the intervening decades and I often wonder whatever happened to one girl in grade five who was bullied every single day because she was poor, socially awkward and often wore her brother's hand-me-down clothes. I hope she's happy and fulfilled and that she never thinks about those days but what if she's permanently scarred?  What if the bullies, and me through my inaction, had such a negative impact on her confidence that she never hit her stride in life?

So I was intrigued by a Salon series,Interview With My Bully which encourages adults to track down their childhood bullies confront them and write about the experience. The published essays are fascinating.  Though the authors are successful, accomplished, mostly-happy adults, they have been unable to let go of the painful memories caused by a childhood bully and have tracked them down in the hopes of answering the question that has been bothering them for decades - Why me?  Some of the bullies are truly apologetic and welcome the chance to relieve their own conscience.  Others are surprised that they were capable of inflicting so much pain and are shocked to hear that they have been on someone's mind for so long.  And sadly, a few are still the horrible people they were at age 10, like the woman in the most recent essay who went on Facebook immediately after her interview to insult the person she had bullied as a child.

Most of the essayists are in their late 30s or early 40s which not only tends to be a time of reflection or renewal but also often coincides with their own kids reaching middle school.  They came of age at a time when bullying wasn't properly addressed in the school setting and in fact, many teachers could be considered bullies themselves.  Yes, I'm talking to you grade six gym teacher.  Today, bullying is discussed at length.      School boards have sweeping zero-tolerance policies.  Celebrities pledge their support for anti-bullying campaigns and in theory at least, children are supposed to feel more comfortable talking about it.  And yet, it continues.  Here in Toronto, there is a very disturbing case in the courts about a disabled youth who was bullied so mercilessly that he committed suicide.

Were you bullied as a child?  Were you a bully yourself?  Or, like me, did you stand by and do nothing while someone else was bullied?  If so, you'll find these essays very moving and maybe even be inspired to get in touch with some of the people from your school days.

Tipping wait staff - obligation or nicety?

They seem happy.  I wonder how much they'll leave me...


There has been a lot of discussion in Toronto media lately about whether the standard restaurant tip should go up to the Manhattan standard of 20 per cent from the current standard 15 per cent so I thought I'd sort out some of the misinformation that's out there from an etiquette point of view.  


Before I begin, let me say that I worked as a waitress in a very busy restaurant for about a year so I am well aware of the rigours of the job - the hours on your feet, the demanding customers, the heavy trays, a pace that is often so frantic, you don't even have time to eat.  Despite this, I considered it to be a great job at the time because the tips I earned offset the hourly minimum wage I was receiving. I was also fitter than any other time in my life, but I digress.


The point is, I considered myself very lucky to be in a job that involved tips because I had many friends who were also working in minimum wage jobs in retail and clerical environments who didn't receive any tips at all.  That said, I knew that the size of the tip, if one was given, depended on the diner.  For the most part, the harder I hustled, the higher my tips but there were no guarantees. Sometimes I provided amazing service and got nothing.  That's life.  Now that I've been in the workforce for two decades I believe that every job is hard, every job has challenges and every job has aspects of it that make you feel unappreciated and disrespected.  No single profession or industry has a monopoly on hard work. 


A little about the history of this practice.  Tipping started in the taverns of 17th century England when thirsty patrons would slip bartenders a bit of extra money "to ensure promptitude" (the origin of the word, T.I.P).  It migrated to North America in the 1800s and, while it had a bit of a bumpy start, it is now widespread and even expected here. 


The practice of tipping varies among cultures.  In some countries, it is not expected at all and in others it makes up the bulk of the server's pay.  In some U.S. states, restaurant owners are allowed to pay wait staff less than minimum wage so that patrons can "make up" the remainder of their salary through tips which seems unethical.  Here in Canada, restaurant servers have to receive at least minimum wage and many of them rely upon tips to pad their take-home pay.  Culturally, refusing to leave a tip or leaving an amount considered less than appropriate, is often seen as cheap or insensitive and will often bring on the wrath of your dining companions. 


The standard tip in Toronto is about 15 per cent of the pre-tax bill although I have certainly been in situations where I've rounded it up to 20 per cent for ease of calculation or to recognize outstanding service.  Although using percentages is simple, it bases the tip on the size of the bill, rather than the quality of the service which is not necessarily the fairest approach.  A family with kids could easily use up a lot more of a waiter's time on a $50 dinner than a couple might use on a $100 dinner.  


Although tipping is commonplace in Toronto, it's important to remember that it shouldn't feel like an obligation and the amount itself is technically also at the patron's discretion, although most will abide by the standard.  Some restaurants get around this by automatically adding a tip (gratuity) to tables of eight or more.  Although I've never complained, this doesn't sit quite right with me as it turns the tip into a non-negotiable transaction rather than a gift for a job well done.  According to a recent Toronto Star article, a growing number of restaurants in Toronto have reprogrammed their debit and credit machines to prompt patrons to include a 20 per cent tip.  According to owners, many guests have welcomed the change but there is a presumptuous air about it which doesn't account for the fact that the tip is technically optional and the amount should be based on the quality of the service.  


As when I was working as a waitress, there are still many people today making minimum wage in jobs which don't provide any tips.  Most of the time, these jobs are no less grueling or demanding.  There is just no cultural expectation built up around how they are rewarded.


Over 20 years of dining out, I have had outstanding service and I have had crappy service.  I have waited for 15 minutes to even be acknowledged and I have been plagued by over-zealous  staff who are at the table every two minutes. I have had friendly, service-oriented waiters who genuinely want to enhance my experience and sullen, bored ones who seemed like they couldn't wait to get home.  Even after my worst experiences, I have never had the nerve to leave nothing.  In the end, guilt or the opinion of my tablemates gets to me and I begrudgingly give something.  On the flip side, I have occasionally provided 25 per cent tips when the service warranted it.  This is as it should be.


I'd love to hear your opinions on this, where you stand, how you approach tipping.  And, while I did my research before writing this and based it on my own experience, if I'm missing a big piece of the information pie or some important context, please enlighten me.

Beyonce's Blinged-Out Birthing Experience Annoys "Normal" Moms

The chosen one has arrived...and she's creating quite a stir


People are often surprised when I tell them that the definition of etiquette is "to increase the comfort level of those around you".  They always assume it is much more complicated than this but it makes sense if you think about it.  When people are practicing poor etiquette, either on purpose or inadvertently, they have temporarily forgotten about the people around them.

Inconveniencing others, putting them out, making their life uncomfortable, increasing their frustration - this is the natural result of going through life without thinking about the impact that your actions have on those around you.

Even when we're experiencing the biggest day of our life, whether it's our senior prom, wedding day or the birth of our first child, we still need to remember that we're not alone in the world.  Through choice or circumstance, many others are sharing our orbit.

So, I was sad (but not surprised) to hear of the shenanigans that took place at Brooklyn's Lennox Hill Hospital in the wake of the blessed event that was the birth of Beyonce's first child, Ivy Blue Carter.  There are conflicting reports but the gist of it seems to be that, in an effort to protect their privacy, Beyonce and her husband, Jay-Z (real name Shaun Carter) paid the hospital to construct or retrofit two luxury birthing suites so they were more reflective of a high-end spa and not a healthcare environment.  Okay, I can see this I guess. Huge celebrities are not accustomed to rolling like the rest of us (especially here in Ontario where money can't buy a better birthing experience) and they wouldn't want to taint Ivy Blue's view of the world by having her arrive in a run-of-the-mill hospital room.

However, in an effort to protect their privacy (and perhaps to treat the event with the gravitas they felt it deserved), the couple also had a flotilla of secret-service-type security, body guards, massage therapists and other "wellness" specialists who basically took over the whole floor. In the words of a new mother who had the misfortune to give birth at the same time, "no other pregnancy mattered" and apparently, things became so difficult that one couple of premature twins were prevented from seeing their babies and extended family members of other newborns were told that the floor was "on lock-down" when they arrived.  Any new parent will tell you that the process of giving birth is emotional enough without having to deal with another delivery on the floor that is deemed much, much more important than your own.

While I appreciate that the rich and famous may have a greater need to protect their privacy than the average citizen, let's not forget that Beyonce chose to announce her pregnancy at a very public event (the VMAs), drawing attention to herself and effectively eclipsing all other news from the event.  But, if your desire (fact or fiction) for privacy is so strong and you have unlimited financial resources, wouldn't it be better just to have the baby at home?  I'm sure that they could have arranged for all of the necessary medical personnel and equipment to ensure a safe and smooth delivery.

A spokesperson for the hospital claims that the hospital tried to minimize the disruption to their other parents and denied that there were any problems but the stories of mistreatment continue to come out.

It doesn't matter who you are.  When you make decisions, you need to take into account how they will affect others.

Why You Need to Stop Being Late for Everything

While browsing at a small-town thrift store last week, something shiny caught my eye. Hanging on the wall behind the cash register, was a large, cartoonish costume that looked like a burlesque dancer, complete with a garish gold bikini and tassles on the nipples. It was crudely made - white fabric haphazardly stuffed, and an apron-like hook to go over the wearer's head. Sewed to the midriff was a paper sign that read: "I was late for work today".

I asked a staff member about it and she explained that if an employee is late for work, the store owner makes them wear it all day. "Does she really enforce it," I said? When the cashier nodded, I asked if she had ever had to wear it. "Only once," she said, "It was so embarrassing that I started to set my alarm 15 minutes earlier."

As I left the store, I did a small fist pump for the employer who had managed to teach her staff the importance of showing up on time in a way that actually worked but still had an element of fun.  Obviously this tactic lends itself to the atmosphere of a funky thrift shop and would probably be inappropriate in a law office or any other environment where the tardy employee would be meeting with clients.  But the notion that you could shame people into being on time was intriguing.


I have worked with, and employed, people who have been habitually late for work and meetings and while I have attempted to help them understand that their behaviour is disrespectful, disruptive and will decrease their opportunities for promotion, I have not been as successful as the thrift store owner.  


While some of the chronically tardy accept responsibility and are truly apologetic, most believe they are innocent victims of circumstance when in actual fact, being late is the result of many choices that are within their control.  They all have excuses and they're not even good ones: My husband takes a long time in the bathroom. I got caught up watching TV. I forgot I had no clean clothes. My mother called.  I was reviewing my stocks online. I like to eat breakfast slowly. I was having a great dream. It's snowing. 


Obviously I understand that in our fast-paced society, we are all late sometimes.  A kid's meltdown, unexpected road construction or a subway outage can derail event the most organized among us.  But occasional lateness is quite different from chronic tardiness characterized by a complete inability to arrive anywhere on time that is generally part of a lifelong pattern.  


Psychologists have difficulty pinpointing if always-late people are deliberately disrespectful or if they are actually unable to estimate time.  Those of us who generally arrive on time go through a mental process when we are faced with a deadline.  We determine the number of minutes between where we are now and where we need to be and develop a work-back schedule that includes an inventory of everything we need and/or want to do in the ensuing time.  Using past experience, we note how long it will take to complete each thing and if it's obvious we don't have enough time for everything, we eliminate things from the list or do things less "perfectly" than we would like.  As the time ticks down, we check the clock frequently, don't start things we can't finish and look for efficiencies along the way. We may repeat this process several times as we navigate our day.  


Unsurprisingly, people who are always late, don't activate this process and no one can say with certainty whether it's deliberate or innate.  They really believe they can sleep another fifteen minutes, watch ten more minutes of TV or stop at that trendy coffee shop with the huge lineup.  Despite the fact that it has taken them 20 minutes to style their hair every day for the past ten years, they will allot 15 minutes today, thinking they will somehow defy gravity and do it faster.   

Diana Delonzor, author of Never Be Late Again: 7 Cures for the Punctually Challenged, is a reformed late person who retrained herself and now helps others.  Delonzor says that being chronically late goes well beyond poor time management and different people have different reasons, although they're not always conscious.  Some use it as a form of control and rebellion against authority, others lack the willpower and discipline to follow through on actions.  Some people just have an 'absent-minded professor' personality and are always getting lost in their thoughts and activities. She says that being ten minutes late for work everyday for a year amounts to one week's paid vacation.


So are they just irresponsible or do they suffer from an inherent lack of self-discipline?  Well, if they're looking for an office job, it doesn't really matter.  In order for a workplace (and society in general) to function, we need some kind of order and one of the simplest ways to maintain that is to organize our time.  While DeLonzor is proof that a habitually late person can be reformed, it's very hard to change lifelong patterns and once you have the reputation for being unreliable, you can lose friends, get skipped over for promotions and even get fired.


None of us has the luxury of a job that only calls on us to do things we find easy and conveniently overlooks our weaknesses.  For some, tardiness is a weakness, for others it might be teamwork or providing feedback.  We all have to work at overcoming the stuff that just doesn't come naturally.  If you're unable or unwilling to do that, then you're probably sentenced to a life of working on your own, which is not necessarily a bad thing but even then, you will not be able to avoid the odd meeting, wedding or dinner with friends.

Charities - Show Some Gratitude

"It's better to give than to receive" is one of the many lessons my parents drilled into my siblings and me in an attempt to raise kids who would turn out to be good citizens.  To my seven-year-old self, the words rang a bit hollow. In my limited experience, getting something was much more fun than giving something and anyway, I wondered, "Why does it have to be one or the other?  Can't they both be equally virtuous?"

As an adult now, I understand the sentiment and I have experienced the thrill of giving to someone whether it's a gift, financial assistance or volunteer time.  And as a parent, I'm doing my best to help my children realize how fortunate they are to live in a great country with loving parents who are able to provide for them and nurture them.

With that goal in mind that, last December, I asked them to take $20 from their piggy bank and purchase a toy for less fortunate kids.  Neither was thrilled with this request but they approached it differently.  One of them reluctantly agreed, knowing that resistance was futile but the other pushed against the notion, railing about the various injustices his father and I have perpetrated against him and how 'it's just not fair'.  This was disappointing but not discouraging.  At their ages, it's not important that they "get it", it's just important that they "do it".  They will figure out why later.

After a quick trip to Toys R US, we took the subway downtown, making a day of it by taking in the decorations at Nathan Phillips Square and the windows at The Bay, before our final stop at the CHUM/City TV building, where we would drop off our gifts to the Christmas Wish program.

We walked into the building and came face to face with a mountain of toys so high it almost hit the ceiling.  No one was there to greet us so we lingered in the hallway for a few minutes, the boys clutching their bags and looking enviously at the toy mountain.  Finally, a security guard came up and sat down at a desk.  When it became obvious he wasn't going to talk to us, I told him we were there to donate something to their Christmas toy drive.  Without looking up, he gestured to the toy mountain and told us we could just add our stuff to the pile and went back to his paperwork.

While I didn't expect anyone to do cartwheels over our generosity, I had anticipated that a heartfelt 'thank you' to the boys would be the final step in my afternoon of teaching.  Instead, they left feeling a bit sad and full of misplaced jealousy that some other lucky kids were going to get all those amazing toys.  Totally deflated, I didn't even bother explaining that they needed to be distributed between thousands of children.

I have no idea of this was a case of bad timing and I have every reason to believe this is an organization and a program that is truly committed to helping.  We will donate again this year and I'll continue to emphasize the importance of giving with no conditions.  That said, charities must accept that they need to meet donors halfway, acknowledge them, thank them and in cases like this, understand that they are playing a role in the development of future donors.

Does Your Movie Theatre Etiquette Deserve an R-Rating?

I am at a stage in my life where I attend a lot of kids' movies.  My kids are old enough to sit through a movie without getting restless but still too young to go on their own so I spend many Saturday and Sunday afternoons in theatres with other parents and their offspring.  Once in a while, if the filmmakers have inserted some smart adult in-jokes, it's enjoyable (Megamind).  More often, the humour appeals only to the kindergarten crowd and I'm just passing the time (Mr. Popper's Penguins) and sometimes, the offerings are so dull, even the kids are bored (Legend of the Guardians).

Iearned early on that movie theatre etiquette, already struggling to survive in adult-themed movies, is almost non-existent at screenings of kids' movies.

Some relaxing of the rules is to be expected.  By their nature, kids are louder, clumsier and messier than most adults and they are still learning the rules of appropriate social behaviour, (presuming their parents are bothering to teach them at all).  They rustle candy wrappers incessantly, loudly guzzle drinks and chew popcorn and, need to get up and visit the facilities more often than their adult counterparts.  And their childlike innocence and sense of wonder is on full view when they exclaim out loud that the anthropomorphic car is in trouble or the princess needs to run away.  I don't have a problem with any of this.

I have however, noticed a disturbing trend taking shape at these screenings and it has to do with the chaparones.  Some of the adults at kids' movies seem to think that since they're not there to see a movie of their choice, they are allowed to behave in ways they would never dare if they were out to see an adult movie.  At a recent screening of CARS 2, I was seated next to a woman and her daughter of about five. She yapped loudly on her cell phone right through the credits and once the movie started, pulled out a paperback novel and used the light from the device to illuminate the pages.  As anyone who has ever sat next to a movie theatre texter knows, this is extremely annoying.  After about ten minutes, I attempted to initiate a polite conversation. Here's how it went:

Me: Excuse me, would you mind turning off your cell phone?  
Rude mom: I beg your pardon? (delivered in a snarky tone)
Me: Could you please turn off your cell phone?  I''m finding the light very distracting.
Rude mom: I can't believe you would even notice it.  Why don't you mind your own business?
Me: It's hard not to notice when you're sitting right next to me
Rude mom: If you can see the light from my cell phone then you're focussing too much on me.  There's no way you should be able to notice this.

Despite her rudeness, I must have gotten through to her on some level because 15 minutes later, she turned it off and took to holding the book up at an angle that would reflect the light from the movie screen and craned her neck so she could read it that way.  Nevertheless, I spent the rest of the movie with my head firmly facing front, lest she accuse me of "focussing on her too much" again.  There was an incident later on where her daughter repeatedly kicked the head of the man in front of her and when he complained about it, he was treated with the same disdain but I won't get into it here.

As someone who believes in civility, it's not uncommon for me to politely ask someone to refrain from rude behaviour in public.  And, since I'm often rebuffed, ignored or told to go do something anatomically impossible, I have developed a thick skin around it.  What makes this situation disturbing is the poor example parents like this are setting for their children.  This woman's daughter heard the whole conversation and at a young age, might conclude that her mother's behaviour is appropriate, that there is no need to respond to polite requests in kind, and that it's okay to go through life doing whatever she wants, regardless of its impact on others.

So, is it realistic to expect silence during a screening of a children's movie?  No, of course not.  But, when you take your child out into public, it behooves you to behave like an adult and set a good example.

Just when I think I've seen it all...

People often ask me to name the worst etiquette faux pas.  While there are some basic etiquette rules that should never be broken, there's no list that ranks gaffes in order of most egregious.  Besides, people are annoyed by different things and what might be the height of rudeness to one person is perfectly acceptable to another. Having said that, I know what my answer would be.

 

 In order, the top three things that drive me crazy are:

1. Inappropriate cell phone use

2. Cheating at four-way stop signs

3. Chewing gum with your mouth open

So I'm always ready to share cell phone horror stories and remind people of cell phone etiquette courtesy (whether they ask for it or not).  In Toronto, we are surrounded by a cacophony of jangling ringtones, loud talkers and people trying to balance phones between their shoulder and jaw as they try to multi-task.  While other people can tune it out, I never get used to it and it continues to rankle me day after day.

Just when I thought I had seen (and heard) it all, I witnessed something the other night that shocked even me. 

I was getting a pedicure in a local salon. It's a small shop and in addition to myself, there were three other customers and three staff members.  One of the customers was making very loud, back-to-back cell phone calls all through her manicure.  When the technician was working on one hand, she would hold the phone in the other.  When it was time for that hand's nails to be painted, she would switch hands.  You get the picture.

When her nails were finally finished, the technician politely asked her to refrain from using her phone until her nails were completely dry.  I breathed a sigh of relief that we would finally have some respite from her incessant, one-sided chatter.  But it was not to be.  Without missing a beat, she placed the phone on the table, carefully punched in some numbers and then (gasp), put it on speaker phone.  A man called Boris answered and she proceeded to have a loud, annoying conversation with him without even telling him that a) he was on speaker and b) seven other hapless victims were hearing the entire call. Their conversation lasted about 10 minutes, turned into a heated argument, revealed lots of personal details about poor Boris and had the cumulative effect of making all of us squirm in our seats and look at each other in amazement.  We tried to give her the look of death but she was absolutely immune to it, so wrapped up in her own world.

The salon staff apologized to the other customers but didn't seem to feel comfortable asking her to end the call so I did it for them, in the most polite way possible of course. She looked at me like I was the rude one, stood up and stormed out of the store.

This example is rife with examples of poor cell phone etiquette but, just as a refresher, I'll summarize the usage guidelines here:

1. Don't have a long cell phone conversation in a place where people cannot escape from you - this means elevators, grounded airplanes, cafes, restaurants, retail checkout lines and salons.

2. If you must have a cell phone conversation in public, try to maintain at least 10 feet between you and the next human.

3. Unless it's a business boardroom and a conference call is planned, never have a speaker phone conversation in the vicinity of other people.

4. Never put the person on the other end of the line on speaker phone without asking their permission, or at the very least, giving them a heads-up.

5. Don't yell.  The microphones on cell phones are so good these days that you could almost use a whisper and people would still be able to hear you.

6. Don't share sensitive information in the vicinity of other people - for security and embarrassment reasons, refrain from sharing personal details, phone numbers, email addresses, snail mail addresses, negotiation or proprietary information or information of a competitive nature.

7. Ditch the cutesy rings if you're an adult - I know many people disagree with me on this one but I don't want to hear a tinny rendition of "All the Single Ladies" squeezed out of the tiny speakers on your iPhone.

8.Turn off your ringer in any place where it would annoy others (e.g. during a speech, at an awards show, at a  performance, at the movies, etc.) and if you happen to forget, please for the love of God, don't pick it up and start talking.

Hope this is helpful.  Let me know if there are any other cell phone situations that bug you.

Please look at me

When my family needs something from a pharmacy, we take a walk to a nearby chain store. For the past seven years, this store has been our go-to location for diapers, formula, makeup, prescriptions and countless other things.

There is a cashier in this store who has been on duty almost every time I've been in the store. But I've never seen her eyes. This woman and I have been through countless transactions together. She has seen my kids grow. She knows what kind of mascara I like. She is aware of the various ailments that have plagued my family over the last half-decade. But she has never looked at me.

She has somehow managed to conduct every single transaction without facing me, looking at me directly or saying anything other than the minimum of words that are required. She has never smiled, made small talk or even said "thank you".

I find myself wondering about her life story. Is she depressed? Is she preoccupied or tired? Does she hate her job? Does she dislike the customers? What is she like when she is with her friends or family? Is she different away from work? Is she secretly a happy person who just doesn't feel the need to connect with strangers? How can she make it through an eight-hour shift without looking at anyone?

The sad thing is, she is not alone. Everyday we encounter service people, cashiers, customer service reps, etc. who manage to do what is required of them - process a return, get coffee, deliver a pizza - without acknowledging the human being on the other side of the counter. I find this situation really unnerving. Maybe I'm insecure but I long for acknowledgement and eye contact. Pleasantries do not need to be exchanged. Small talk need not be included. I can even (sadly) live without a 'thank you' but please, please, for the sake of civility, can you at least look at me?

According to body language experts, eye contact (or lack thereof) is the most important signal we can send each other and indeed when I did a google search on "the importance of eye contact", most of the entries that came up first, pertained to dating advice for men. But perhaps my frustration has cultural roots. If eye contact means different things in different cultures, perhaps I am just experiencing the diaspora that is Toronto. In North America and Western Europe, eye contact is not only considered proper and polite, but it is also a sign of self-confidence. Other cultures seem to have stricter rules when it comes to eye contact, especially within religious or hierarchical parameters.

So, I haven't uncovered the secret of my local pharmacy's behaviour - prolongued unhappiness, general indifference to others, cultural programming - but it still makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't know about you but when I'm spending money, I find it nice to be acknowledged.

Captive at the Cash Register

"Would you like to donate a dollar to our Love of Giving fund?" On a recent shopping expedition, I was asked this question (or some variation thereof) at four stores in succession and I thought it warranted a blog post on the etiquette of asking for money.

We've all been there. You've schlepped around a busy store, found what you wanted, hauled your purchases to the checkout line, finally made it to the front, and, just when you're about to pay, the cashier asks if you would like to donate a dollar (or amount of your choice) to either their own proprietary charity or another more established one with which they have struck up a partnership. Successfully put on the spot, you have the following options:

1. Say yes willingly and genuinely feel good about it

2. Say yes begrudgingly because you will feel like a schmuck if you don't

3. Say no, feel like above-noted schmuck and avoid judgy stares of fellow store patrons

4. Say no and launch into a rant about how you're sick of "everyone asking for money all the time"

5. Ask for more information which will satisfy your own curiosity or requirements for charitable donations but also result in putting the cashier on the spot and annoying people in the line behind you who just want to pay and get out of the store

You can probably tell by the tone of my multiple choice list that I'm not a huge fan of the "captive at the cash register
request for money" approach to philanthropy and it seems to
me that it's strategically flawed anyway - who wants to be asked
for additional funds at the exact same place where they see the
effect that the HST has on their wallet?

Let me make it clear that I don't blame the store employees in any way. I know they are doing their job and I'm sure they have been directed to ask for donations from every shopper, regardless of how busy they are, how grumpy the person is or how many others are standing in line. It also feel seems that they're not furnished with the information they need to answer questions from would-be donors. When I encountered a request for donations at four stores in succession one day a couple of weeks ago, I decided to ask some questions of clarification before making a decision. I won't name the stores but lets say that they include a national drug store chain with lots of shoppers, a department store with a storied Canadian history, a toy store with a penchant for mis-spelling its name and a provincial chain store with somewhat of a stranglehold on liquor sales. At each store, I asked the cashiers two questions - does the company match the consumer donations and does the company use consumer donations to get a tax write-off?

Only one employee was able to confirm that the company matched the donations but since it's effectively a crown corporation I wonder if they aren't matching the donation with my money anyway. The other three cashiers offered only sighs or blank stares or suggested I call head office. No one was able to answer the tax write-off question but one of the employees said, and I quote, "I don't know but if it's true, I'm going to start my own charity so I can get a write-off". Just the kind of person you want on your frontline. I should add that in all four stores, the livid stares of shoppers standing behind me in line were boring into the back of my skull with a burning intensity as I held up the process with my questions.

Proponents of the cash register donation say that consumers like it because it's fast, simple and they have some "power" over where their dollar is going. Besides, if you're not interested, you simply have to say "no" and you won't be asked again. I have found this to be true. But an unofficial survey of my friends, family members and neighbours revealed that, for the most part, people are experiencing charitable fatigue and find this approach tantamount to harassment.

What do you think? Is the cash register donation request harmless, crafty, strategic, annoying? I'd love to hear from anyone who works in the charitable sector.

My kids will never be that rude...or will they?

This week I had the pleasure of meeting a close friend for dinner at a fairly nice restaurant. I arrived first and was seated across from a family of four - mom, dad, son of about 16 and daughter of about 19. We were the only parties in the establishment and so I couldn't help overhearing their conversation. I surmised that they were out to celebrate something and sat squeamishly as the parents desperately and without much success, to engage the kids in conversation. The son seemed to realize that small talk was the price of entry for a nice steak but the daughter was having none of it and made sure everyone at the table (and beyond) was aware that she had better things to do. After a few minutes, her disgruntled parents, resigned to their fate, gave up and she pulled out a cell phone and from that point forward, did not lift her eyes from the screen for the duration of the dinner, even continuing to text between mouthfuls.

Of course, my brief encounter with this family lacked any context at all so I have no idea what, if anything, was behind the daughter's extremely offensive behaviour but I responded in the classic parental way, by silently declaring that "no child of mine will ever behave that way, adding in "especially when I'm buying them a nice dinner" for good measure.

The no child of mine declaration is an occupational hazard of parenting and it's not a phrase that should be tossed around lightly. After all, when dealing with another human, even one over which you exert considerable influence, it's impossible to predict their every action into the future. I have had to eat my words countless times as previous declarations were proven unattainable. For example, I proudly announced that no child of mine was ever going to eat junk food, become addicted to bad cartoons or forget to say thank you when someone gave them a gift, but they did. The sentiment comes from a good place - the desire to raise children of whom you can be proud and young adults who will go out into the world as productive, well-mannered members of society. But as any potentially perfect parent has discovered, easier said than done. While we have a great deal of influence over our children, particularly in their earlier years, our words of wisdom don't always sink in, please and thank yous are easily forgotten in public and there is an element of nature versus nurture in all of us.

So, we can't always control behaviour, especially from those sullen, withdrawn teenagers that we all were at one point. But we can set rules and expectations for behaviour both inside the house and out in public and reinforce them in a way that is appropriate for their age. And I think, when it comes to teaching your children manners, starting early, providing constant reminders and never giving up, will eventually result in polite young adults. In our house, nothing can be brought to the dinner table besides food and the tools required to enjoy it and that applies to the adults as well as the kids. It is my hope that, if I am unrelenting about these things early in life, they will become ingrained and I won't have to beg them to refrain from using their cell phones at the dinner table ten years from now.

But will I succeed? Perhaps the poor parents who were sitting next to me tried in vain to establish the same kinds of guidelines and after years of repeating the same mantra, they just gave in with a "kids today" shrug. Perhaps they shared my mortification but decided to ignore their daughter's behaviour on that evening when the only alternative was to have a public argument or risk ruining the outing for everyone, including their son, who was behaving appropriately.

With kids I've learned, never say never but do your best. I'd love to hear from parents of teens if you struggle with this, if you have an issue with it or if it doesn't bother you.

By the way, my friend and I had a lovely time together and got so engrossed in a stimulating face-to-face conversation that neither of us checked our mobile devices once.