Etiquette, shmetiquette.

The recent massive housecleaning that I've forced myself to endure has yielded some archived material that I thought I'd share with you. The below is from March or April of 2001, when I was trying to write for the now-defunct service Themestream. (Odd how I first thought it was called "The Me Stream.") I'm not entirely certain what I was trying to achieve with the below, or with any of the other crap I posted, which I will pass on to you in the coming days. Regardless, enjoy.

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A funny thing happened the other day when I was looking at the newspaper: I ended up reading Judith Martin's weekly column. You might know Miss Martin better as Miss Manners.

I'm a big fan of etiquette, even though I haven't used silverware in about 10 years, so I don't know whether the salad bowl goes on the inside or the outside of the spaghetti knife. And the extent of my knowledge about tipping doesn't go much beyond giving the pizza guy a couple of extra bucks. But I'm for anything that advances the cause of civility among humans, and proper etiquette ostensibly helps us achieve this.

I don't wish to call Miss Manners a waste of 20 column inches every time out, but while the concept giving an etiquette expert a weekly column is a great idea, the actual execution of said column borders on ludicrous, so much that if you're like me, you can't help but laugh. (And not just because you're like me.)

There's an old proverb that states that man must first learn to walk before he can run. Just the same, I can't help but wonder that before we lose sleep over the proper wording of a party invitation or the correct way to fold dinner napkins, perhaps a larger percentage of us could benefit from at least a refresher course (if not a complete re-education) in basic human decency.

I know that "please" and "thank you" aren't exactly in vogue right now - maybe they'd make a big comeback if Nelly or Shaggy or Tricky or Mopey or Doc or whoever put out a song about it.

In the first couple of months of dating my girlfriend, she would tease me almost mercilessly every time I'd smile and say "thank you" and "have a great day" during any sort of transaction, whether it was buying a newspaper at a convenience store or grabbing lunch at a drive-thru. "You're so polite," she'd tell me in a tone of voice that really said, "You sound so ridiculous when you say that."

But I know that I'm winning - she's starting to do the same thing. It's a great feeling; I'm sure this is how the missionaries felt (at least, before they got skewered on a spit).

At any rate, if there are any people in the newspaper syndication business reading this, I have an idea for a weekly column - have your people get in touch with me because I don't have people to get in touch with. The column, called "Mr. Nice Guy" for lack of a better name, would look something like this:

Dear Mr. Nice Guy: As I write this, I've been sitting in a drive-thru line for 15 minutes. Those little snot-nosed punks working here aren't breaking any land-speed records, and I'd be willing to put even money on the prospect of them screwing up my order. By the time you read this, I'll probably be in jail for reaching into the window and throttling the first S.O.B. who shows his face. But just in case I'm still sitting here by the time this reaches publication, am I taking the right course of action? -- Peeved In Paducah

Dear Paducah: Relax. Contrary to popular belief, many foodservice workers can indeed find their ass with both hands. Before you commit some sort of misdemeanor assault (or worse), please consider that the delay could be due to any number of factors. Is there a new trainee? Did the manager underschedule the shift? Listen, Paducah, foodservice workers have to deal with people like you on a daily basis, if not more often. And though some of them take pride in their work, the bulk of them aren't there because they want to be, but because they have to be. I'd guess about 95 percent of our workforce is rowing that same boat.

So, when you get to the window, kill them with kindness. Smiles are welcome - and not the kind of smarmy smile that will get you slapped on a first date, but a real, honest-to-God, genuine smile. A "thank you" or "have a nice day" would also be a nice thing to do. They might not show it when you say it, but they do appreciate it. Really. I'm sorry they're not as intelligent as you are, but it might do you some good to remember that they could conceivably clean your bedpan someday. And I'd do my best to stay on their good side while I still could, before they play "trippy-fally" on your IV.

You see, Mr. Nice Guy would operate on the presumption that you, Gentle Reader, are the smartest person in the world. You're sophisticated, you're debonair - you've really got it together. The rest of the world exists solely to piss you off. They're dog food.

Mr. Nice Guy just wants to open some eyes. A lot of us are pretty wrapped up in our lives and have forgotten or were never truly taught the basic tenets of a peaceful society. And there's a dire shortage of basic civility experts today (though God forbid we turn this over to the "experts").

Don't misunderstand me (Mr. Nice Guy will not resort to referring to himself in the third person all the time): I'm not trying to wussify those listening to me. The pursuit of happiness for myself and those around me is my goal. And since you, the smartest person in the world, are already happy (except when you have an incident like Pissed-Off in Paducah had), it falls into the lap of Mr. Nice Guy to help the rest of us achieve that nirvana that you've already attained.

And please stop flipping me off. Thank you.

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