the independent campus newspaper of swarthmore college since 1881

Wednesday, August 20, 2008



Food for thought: Sharples etiquette 101, continued

BY MOLLY PIELS and MAIRIN ODLE

In print | April 3, 2008

Sharples truly is an etiquette nightmare. We thought we’d covered most of the major issues last time, but then we had several conversations that started, “I liked your column this week, but you forgot to talk about . . .” This is noteworthy for two reasons.

First, our friends were being extremely polite when they chose to preface their criticism with a compliment. Second, they were right. We missed a lot.

Most of what we missed has to do with serving food. We have noticed what seems to be a campus-wide quest for Best Taco Ever. We know that some segments of the population are trying desperately to achieve BTE because we’re often stuck behind them in the taco bar line, and other than a BTE obsession, there is no explanation for the care and deliberation that they devote to assembling their meal. To those of us who don’t “get” the whole BTE thing, this is obnoxious; we just want to get our food and go sit down. We would also like to point out that if it is possible to create BTE, it will probably be better accomplished by someone who is sitting down at a table, has space to work in and can insert materials into the shell in the order they choose rather than the order in which they appear in line. The same goes for falafel, sandwiches or anything requiring construction. So if the sight of a messy taco really does make you shudder, we suggest you use your time in line to obtain the materials and leave putting them together for later.

That said, getting food is not now, nor should it ever be, a race. If you were in that much of a hurry, you would have gotten a bag lunch. There is no excuse for failing to bring your plate to the food; Sharples made it publicly known that they would like students to do this, and we’ve all seen bacon bits mixed in with the raisins enough times to know that there can be some pretty horrible consequences for sloppiness. There is also no reason to not make eye contact with, and say “please” and “thank you” to the people serving the food and the card swipers. It’s common courtesy, really easy and doesn’t take any extra time.

Whether you eat in the dining hall, a fancy restaurant or hunt your own deer in the Crum, waiting is going to be a part of your dining experience. Waiting is best done patiently. The worker refilling a container at salad bar is not trying to ruin your day. They are, in fact, trying to feed you. Rolling your eyes, reaching around them and tapping your foot impatiently are all incredibly rude and serve no purpose. If it feels awkward to stand there, go get a drink or something and come back later. Don’t look a gift container of mandarin oranges in the mouth.

Similarly, the coffee and tea machines, while brewing, are not trying to cause you mental anguish. Taking out the pot of coffee or tea while the machine is running causes coffee or tea to fall directly onto the hot plate, where it burns and smells bad. We don’t know why people do this when already-brewed beverages are right there, but they do, and it’s not OK.

We use lines to make sure that everyone has to wait an equal amount of time, or at least that’s what Molly’s hippie elementary school told her. The salad bar line can be a little tricky because it isn’t a line so much as a circle, but there are still basic rules to ensure approximate fairness. The line goes counter clockwise (or spins down for physicists). Please don’t stop and tell your epic Sager story right in front of the refried beans. You must keep moving or depart the salad bar area. There is also no cutting in at the ends unless the line is virtually empty — the general consensus among a random sample of our friends is that you have to start near the soup or chili containers (or oatmeal and maple syrup, for you breakfast types).

For longer lines, conversation is acceptable so long as no serving is taking place in that part of the line. So is eavesdropping — you’ve got to entertain yourself somehow, and rumors need a mechanism for spreading. Participating in the conversations of random strangers, however, is a little too friendly. The only exceptions are if the others are saying something so banal that anyone can relate (e.g. “Pasta bar line is sooo long”) or if they are asking a question that you happen to know the answer to (e.g. “What time does Pub Nite start?”).

Once it’s finally time to sit down, please respect others’ personal space. We know that it gets crowded at lunch, but if you and your eight best friends surround someone eating alone and then talk over and around this person, you will probably make them feel like a weird loser. And none of us need any more of that feeling, okay? This especially applies to the four-person booths. If one person is eating there, sorry, but three strangers may not also sit there and pretend this person does not exist. The awkwardness of this situation is causing our hearts to race just thinking about it.

Don’t put your feet on the table. Is that so hard? (We saw you).

Speaking of things that should go without saying but apparently don’t, all the general rules of table manners still apply even though our parents aren’t here to enforce them. No one wants to see you chewing with your mouth open, hunched over your plate, or eating your ravioli as if it were a popsicle. More importantly, there are photos above the tray drop off to show you correct (napkin, apple core, banana peel thrown away and silverware off to the side) and incorrect (stuff all over everywhere) ways to put your tray on the conveyor belt. We don’t think that’s too much to ask. Conversations consisting of more than brief greetings in the tray drop-off area are also a no-no. And by greetings, we don’t mean the second installment of your epic Sager story.

Despite our best efforts, we have probably missed plenty this week as well. At the same time, however lacking this column may be, we still think it isn’t missing as much as my hash browns were this Sunday: whoever has the salt shakers in their room needs to bring them back. Immediately.

Molly and Mairin are seniors. You can reach them at mpiels1@swarthmore.edu and lodle1@swarthmore.edu.


Discussion


Comments are closed.