                         Good Grief! Polite Gothamites?
                                 by Dave Barry

 
 
          I  have a shocking development to report in the ongoing War  on 
       Rudeness: In a recent survey that I am not making up, New York was 
       declared the third most polite city in the United States.
 
          Do  not  adjust your newspaper.  You read  that  correctly.   A 
       professional  etiquette consultant named Marjabelle Young  Stewart 
       has announced that according to her survey, The Big Apple is  more 
       polite than, for example, Des Moines, Iowa ("The Big Pork").
 
          I'm  sure this raises in your mind the same question it  raised 
       in  mine, which is: Exactly how many cubic feet  of  paint-thinner 
       fumes  has this woman inhaled?  I mean, New *York?*  Polite?   The 
       only city in the world with an Official Arm Gesture?
 
          So I called up Marjabelle Young Stewart, who turns out to be  a 
       very nice and enthusiastic woman with a very perky style of speech 
       wherein everything comes erupting out as one continuous  sentence.  
       Also,  when  she hangs up the phone, she  says,  quite  sincerely, 
       "Bi-dee Bye!"
 
          Stewart believes there's a real etiquette trend sweeping Ameri-
       ca.   As she put it: "Brides are finally back in the churches  and 
       out  of the pizza parlors and they're registering for some  *very* 
       fine crystal and the punch bowls are back in the fraternities  and 
       I  think it's just absolutely *great* because we were starting  to 
       Gucci  ourselves to *death* with buying things and  owning  things 
       and yet we didn't even know the proper way to *eat* and right  now 
       did you know that etiquette books are outselling *cookbooks* and I 
       think it's just *wonderful* because I really think we *are* trying 
       to  be a kinder and gentler nation and didn't you just *love*  the 
       little Bush grandchildren during the inauguration?"
 
          When I told Marjabelle Young Stewart that I work for *The Miami 
       Herald,* she immediately apologized for the fact that -- get ready 
       for  a hearty spasm of laughter -- Miami had not been included  as 
       one  of  the 10 Most Polite cities.  I told her I had  no  problem 
       with  that.  We are talking, after all, about a city where  it  is 
       considered the height of Old World courtesy to holster your weapon 
       in  church.  But I said that I had a lot of trouble  understanding 
       how New York could have made the politeness list, seeing as how it 
       contains so many New Yorkers.
 
          I'm  not  suggesting here that all New Yorkers are  rude  about 
       everything.   I spent a couple of years in New York, and  I  found 
       the residents have a highly developed sense of decorum in  certain 
       tricky areas of etiquette, such as how to act when one  encounters 
       a naked, one-legged man on the sidewalk.
 
          This actually happened to friends of mine named Rob and Joe one 
       snowy  January evening when they were leaving Joe's  apartment  on 
       96th  Street in Manhattan to go buy more beer.  They came out  the 
       front  door,  and there, large as life, was a very  cheerful  one-
       legged  man whose entire evening-wear ensemble consisted  of:  (a) 
       crutches and (b) a shoe.
 
          In  residents  of almost any other city, an encounter  such  as 
       this  would have provoked some kind of unseemly response  such  as 
       going, "huh?" or alerting the authorities, but all it provoked  in 
       Rob  and  Joe was a mild debate over whether the  man  was  really 
       there  or  not, with Joe taking the position that he was  and  Rob 
       taking  the position that maybe they had consumed too  much  beer.  
       Not  that  this prevented them from buying more.  You  rarely  see 
       this kind of savoir-faire outside the Big Apple.
 
          But I frankly feel that New York has some brushing up to do  on 
       certain basic etiquette issues, such as when it is proper for  one 
       to  try  to kill complete strangers for no  apparent  reason  with 
       one's  taxicab.   Also, there is the whole area of  waiting  one's 
       turn.  Let's say you're in a crowded New York department store  on 
       a  rainy day, and you're attempting to buy an umbrella,  and  it's 
       clearly your turn to be waited on.
 
          I  guarantee you that just as you step forward,  somebody  will 
       come barging past you, clutching an umbrella and shouting,  "Miss?  
       Excuse  Me, *Miss??"*  at the salesperson in a tone of voice  sug-
       gesting  that *this* umbrella is needed for a Top Secret  National 
       Security Mission upon which hinges the fate of the entire  planet, 
       and  there is no time to even notice, let alone apologize  to,  an 
       ordinary civilian such as yourself seeking to buy an umbrella  for 
       selfish  personal  use.  So, of course, the salesperson  waits  on 
       this person immediately, and just as it's your turn again, *anoth-
       er*  person carrying *another* strategically vital  umbrella  will 
       rush  up  shouting,  "Miss?  Excuse Me, *Miss??"*  and  this  will 
       continue until the salesperson has waited on all the Priority  One 
       umbrella customers in the metropolitan area, after which you  will 
       be  permitted to make your purchase and lurch outside to  discover 
       that  it has stopped raining, after which you will be struck by  a 
       taxicab.
 
          So I asked Marjabelle Young Stewart how this could be the third 
       most  polite  city in Hell, let alone the United States,  and  she 
       said  her list is based on a survey of her business  clients,  who 
       report  they  have found New York to be a  courteous  place.   Her 
       explanation for this is that the etiquette trend is really  catch-
       ing  on.  My explanation is that these clients must have  been  in 
       town  for routine examinations of their lobotomy scars.   But,  of 
       course, I was far too polite to say this on the phone.
 
          Bi-dee Bye.
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