Obvious Info 101

If only I’d known that it’s a dumb idea to eat spaghetti at a business dinner.  If only it had dawned on me that spaghetti is something that’s nearly impossible to ingest without at least one slurping, reverse-whistle of a long strand – a slurping reverse-whistle of a long strand that is likely covered with red sauce, and is likely to spray teenie-tiny dots of red sauce over a pretty wide arc, depending on the velocity of the slurp. If only I’d known that the spray could reach your boss. Or a client.

You’d think I might have figured all this out. After all, I’m one of those rarest of the rare spaghetti eaters who never quite mastered the technique of twirling spaghetti onto a spoon.

If only I’d known.

If only I’d known that you’re supposed to look someone in the eye when you meet them. If only I’d known that you shouldn’t be checking for text messages or playing Candy Crush during a business lunch – unless it’s a designated working lunch, and then the message checking is okay (but not the Candy Crush).

If only a course like the Plaza Hotel Finishing Program with Beaumont Etiquette had been available when I was starting out my career, who knows how far I might have gone.

Sigh, oh sigh.

But for the fortunate millennials who signed up and forked over – correct fork, by the way – $125 for the course at Boston’s Fairmont Copley Hotel, well the world is their oyster, now that they know how to eat an oyster. (I actually don’t know whether oyster-eating is covered. But here’s my bit of advice: don’t order raw oysters unless Mr./Ms. Big wants them, then follow their lead on whether to slurp or oyster fork it.)

According to the course instructor and program founder Myka Meier,

…displaying good manners in business settings and elsewhere isn’t about stuffiness or keeping up appearances. “We’re in a time where the world needs more kindness,” she said. “That’s really what etiquette is about, spreading kindness and respect.” (Source: Boston Globe)

Well, yes and no. Maybe because I was raised in a home where we used the same fork for salad and dinner, and where the one cardinal etiquette rule was you couldn’t plunk a gallon milk jug down on the table, I don’t see how knowing which fork to use or how to butter a roll has much of anything to do with “spreading kindness and respect.”

But Meier’s got a loftier pedigree – “she trained under a former member of the royal household.”

The recent course in Boston covered more than on utensil usage. It included:

…training on social cues,…business strategies for networking and client hosting, including how to select wine for the table, and tricks for remembering names. Exhibiting authority and confidence in a business setting, she said, is all about body language and tone of voice.

Well, that last point seems as if it would owe as much to Margaret Thatcher as to the Queen Mum, but the royals I suppose are always a good place to start.

Meier also provides MeToo tips like:

…in 2018, it’s inappropriate to compliment a colleague’s body or appearance. “While it’s acceptable to say ‘I love your dress,’” she noted, saying “you look great in that dress,” is not.

Which reminds me of the most PC moment I’ve ever had in my life.

I was at a fundraiser for a school in Ethiopia and the food served was, not surprisingly, Ethiopian. The woman I was speaking with said, “This food is terrific.” I was nodding in agreement while swallowing a bite of terrific Ethiopian food when the woman did a bit of a recoil. “Oh, I beg your pardon. I’m awfully sorry. I should have said ‘I like this food,’ not that ‘it’s terrific.’” It took me a moment to realize that she was apologizing for making a value judgment rather than making a statement of fact.

So, over-PC can be over PC. But I do see why you might not want to say “You look great.” That said, I don’t mind people saying it to me. And there’s a big difference between someone saying “you look great in that dress” and someone leering “your boobs look outstanding in that dress.” But these days, I guess it’s best to avoid anything that could possibly come off as untoward.

Still, it seems to me that what cost $125 at an etiquette course could be had for a few bucks on Amazon – or for free from The Google.

The terrain covered sounds to me like Obvious Info 101.

But who am I to deny someone the opportunity to find their best self via an etiquette course. After all, I am a graduate – certificate and all – of the etiquette course my high school forced us into, way back in the day. I’m sure the woman who ran it didn’t cover not eating spaghetti at a business lunch. Who among us could conceive of the circumstance under which a woman would attend a business lunch?

The two takeaways I remember from NDA’s etiquette course are how to gracefully get out of a car seat when you’re wearing a skirt – swing your legs out first – and that no girl or woman should ever open a car door for herself if there’s a male around. One of the dating tips to ensure this was that, if the boy hadn’t figured out he was supposed to open the door for you, you were to rap your hand lightly against the side of the car and tell the boy that your hand was injured and you needed his help.

I suspect that etiquette has come a long way since then, but, you know, sometimes etiquette is not about kindness and respect. Sometimes it’s about things that don’t matter – like which fork to use – and sometimes it’s so obvious that you really don’t need a course to teach you about it.