Blaikie’s Guide to Modern Manners. Thomas Blaikie

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ you want a picnic, why not find somewhere to sit down and have it properly?

      May I have your seat?

      Some years ago, as an experiment for a TV programme, researchers trawled a railway carriage asking if they could have people’s seats. In the majority of cases the answer was yes, sometimes even though there were empty seats all around. This was supposed to prove the innate tendency of human beings to obey orders. ‘I wish I’d known when I was younger,’ says Mrs Gibbs. ‘It’s all right now that I’m unmistakably ancient, but when I was in my late sixties and we lived in London, I’d be desperate for a seat sometimes, struggling back from John Lewis with ten new pillows.’ But she didn’t like to ask – in fact, she wanted to be offered – and so she didn’t get one. The same thing happens to others, most notably pregnant women. In this case would-be givers-up of seats dread making a mistake – offering a seat to someone who’s just a bit stout. Transport for London have identified this as a serious problem and plan to issue pregnant women with badges saying ‘Baby on Board’ – but not everybody is so keen on this idea. On the TV news they tried out the badges and found they worked a treat.

      By and large people who might give up their seats seem to be paralysed with embarrassment.

      There is also the vexed question of seated children. The thinking today is that they are to remain enthroned at all costs. Is this right? ‘It’s annoying when some little tot’s got a seat and I have to stand,’ says Zoe. But can she be relied on, being generally anti-child?

       Some older people may not look it but they may still need your seat (if carrying a lot of shopping, generally appearing at the end of their tether etc.). Give it to them.

       Don’t let anxiety that they will feel insulted (‘Do I look that old?’) hold you back.

       If you think a woman might be pregnant, give her your seat. If you’ve made a mistake, it won’t matter. After all, she’ll never know why you gave up your seat, and if she’s got any sense she’ll be glad to get one even if slightly insulted.

       If you badly need a seat and nobody is offering, ask. Of course it would be nicer to be offered, but at least, if the results of that experiment are anything to go by, you’re quite certain of success.

       On the whole we should give up our seats more often.

      Are children never to give up their seats on public transport? They should not be pitched out, old-style, just because they are children. But if an entire family is seated and an elderly person is standing, does it not make sense for one of the children to relinquish its seat? Being smaller and younger, are they not better suited to standing? Can’t very small children share? Isn’t this often what they are doing anyway? Or running around not even occupying ‘their’ seats?

      Not satisfied

      Mrs Gibbs went once with her nephew to Sorrento. ‘I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t like his room in the hotel so he asked for another. I’d never have dared.’ This is the traditional British ‘don’t make a fuss’ approach taken to extremes. But Matt, almost half Mrs Gibbs’s age, isn’t much better. ‘I don’t like complaining,’ he says. He tells a story of getting one of those bargain first class deals on Eurostar and a ‘ludicrous woman’ who made a terrible fuss because the attendant allowed someone to sit in her seat while she was in the bar. ‘She was away for hours and everyone thought she’d got off. When she came back the person gave her her seat back immediately but still she had to complain. She kept on saying over and over again, “It’s not what you expect in first class.” The whole point was to tell everyone that she was in first class but we all knew that because we were there too. My wife Lucy thought it was very funny but I wished the woman would belt up.’

      Zoe, on the other hand, is an unhesitant complainer and really rather good at it.

       If you have reason to be dissatisfied, you should complain. You are paying after all.

       If you complain in a public place, such as a hotel lobby, a railway carriage or a restaurant, you will almost certainly have an audience although you might not know it. People nearby will be listening in.

       For this reason a lot of people take a huge amount of trouble – staging their complaints as if they were giving a presentation at work or reprimanding an employee in the modern manner, i.e. constructively, with huge emphasis on the positive, suggestions for the future etc. On the whole this is a good thing, but be careful you’re not making a mountain out of a molehill. There’s no need to spend ten elaborate minutes going through all the strong points of your hotel room as a prelude to asking if the bedside lamp could be fixed.

      Tipping

      ‘Why do we have to have tipping?’ says Zoe, for whom the occasional taxi is quite expensive enough. She’s right, of course. It’s patronising and drives everyone into a frenzy of indignation and anxiety – who to tip? How much? Why?

      In theory, a tip is given for personal services beyond the call of duty. It is supposed to be freely given. In practice, punters compensate for meagre salaries and if they don’t they’re punished in ways too terrifying to think about.

      Tipping gives unfair advantages. Very rich people ensure good service by wisely distributing £50 notes on arrival in hotels and restaurants.

      There is no rationale to tipping. You wouldn’t think of tipping the person at Tesco’s who helps you find the frozen peas.

      The whole thing stinks. In Iceland tipping is outlawed.

      But we are lumbered with it.

       Black-cab drivers in London are tipped 10 per cent – a practice which should have been discontinued long ago. They earn good money. They don’t need a tip.

       The custom of tipping has never taken root in the minicab world. You agree a price at the start of the journey and that’s it. Don’t for goodness’ sake start tipping minicab drivers.

       Restaurants usually add a 12.5 per cent service charge. This isn’t a tip but an extra charge although you can withhold it. Only do this if you are absolutely sure the poor service was the waiter’s fault. Most people feel sorry for waiters since they are poorly paid.

       If you pay the service charge it is not necessary to leave any further tip.

       Some people tip hairdressers. This is absurd. Nowadays hairdressers are glamorous professionals. You wouldn’t tip your child’s teacher or your lawyer, so why tip the hairdresser?

       Porters in hotels have to be tipped for carrying your suitcases to your room – annoying when you have just arrived and only have a 100-euro note. The usual tip is a couple of pounds or euros.

       If someone has provided really exceptional service over a long period (a waiter, hotel staff, a coach driver or builder perhaps), it would be far more personal and less patronising to give them a present. At one time ‘grateful patients’ used to give their doctors expensive presents. Lawyers too would often get cases of wine or cigars. But now everybody hates doctors and lawyers. If you were really grateful, you could lavish something choice upon them (see – Presents: It’s the thought that counts, page 222).

СКАЧАТЬ