Speaking of not thinking . . .
Thinking isn't always my strong suit either. But enough about me.
Public-transit space hogs
Why should anyone have to explain to a grown man that if he sits with his knees spread two feet apart, he's not only taking more space than he paid for, but, worse, he's also forcing his neighbor to rub knees with a total stranger? And where are the brains of the inconsiderate fellow who thinks that the person next to him has pressed his/her knees together not to avoid "playing kneesies" with him, but to give him more room, and proceeds to spread out even further? Squashed between two men taking up roughly a seat and a quarter each, I've sometimes wondered whether, if I pressed my legs any closer together, I'd become a mermaid.
E-mail etiquette
Some people don't bother typing their name at the end of an e-mail--they just assume that I'll remember who abc123 at whatevermail.com is. Personally, I think that's rather thoughtless.
Mystery mail at the office is even better (quoth she sarcastically). I recently got an e-mail from a source so mysterious that I wouldn't save the attached file because I couldn't identity the sender. I had to hit the reply button and ask the sender who the heck he/she was. Then there was that e-mail from the Office of the [Title]--this means absolutely nothing when there are at least a half dozen people in the organization who have the same title.
Please think before you send. We're not mind-readers.
Public-transit space hogs
Why should anyone have to explain to a grown man that if he sits with his knees spread two feet apart, he's not only taking more space than he paid for, but, worse, he's also forcing his neighbor to rub knees with a total stranger? And where are the brains of the inconsiderate fellow who thinks that the person next to him has pressed his/her knees together not to avoid "playing kneesies" with him, but to give him more room, and proceeds to spread out even further? Squashed between two men taking up roughly a seat and a quarter each, I've sometimes wondered whether, if I pressed my legs any closer together, I'd become a mermaid.
E-mail etiquette
Some people don't bother typing their name at the end of an e-mail--they just assume that I'll remember who abc123 at whatevermail.com is. Personally, I think that's rather thoughtless.
Mystery mail at the office is even better (quoth she sarcastically). I recently got an e-mail from a source so mysterious that I wouldn't save the attached file because I couldn't identity the sender. I had to hit the reply button and ask the sender who the heck he/she was. Then there was that e-mail from the Office of the [Title]--this means absolutely nothing when there are at least a half dozen people in the organization who have the same title.
Please think before you send. We're not mind-readers.
posted by Shira Salamone at 10:03 PM
2 Comments:
When I was stuck in a similar situation on Boston trains, I found the following to really help:
"Excuse me, I can see that your balls are really quite enormous, but I actually need this room for my own legs. Would you mind closing your legs a little?"
(Of course this is not modest at all, since it actually requires a women to mention that she has legs.) ;)
Tzipporah, you have a lot more chutzpah/nerve than I have. :)
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