Hockey Etiquette

Ok, I know that sounds like a complete contradiction. I can hear my male readers shouting "It's a hockey game, Grace, not a garden party!" I know that. But in every, ahem, arena there are codes of behavior, aka etiquette, that should govern people's conduct. Yes, even hockey games.

Alas, the recent bouts between the Flyers and the Penguins have not demonstrated the best examples of that.

To my dismay, I reluctantly acknowledge that fights are part of the game. But Sunday's game saw gratuitous and excessive violence which resulted in two Penguin players receiving suspensions. Good, say I.

But that's not what has really chipped my polish, Gracious Sports Fans.

It's that mouthpiece of mean, that blaster of brutishness, that utter, utter Grunt Sydney Crosby.

When asked about his less than sportsmanlike conduct, particularly in regard to his smacking away Flyer Voracek's dropped glove as Voracek bent to retrieve it, he responded thus: "I don't like any guy on their team. So [Voracek's] glove was near me, he went to pick up and I pushed it. Was I supposed to sit there and pick up his glove for him?"

Well, Sydney, a Grant would have. But clearly expecting exemplary behavior from Crosby would be optimistic to the point of idiocy. I get that in the heat of a competitive, hotly contended, and supremely important game emotions run high. I also get that some of these players have been knocked on the head a few too many times and maybe their impulse control is impaired.

But it doesn't take a tremendous amount of brain power to shut up. And that, Graces and Grants, is what really smeared my lipstick (no, not the hockey mom/pitbull kind, just the normal, tasteful tint that Graces wear for that extra little glow).

Fine, Sydney, we get that you're mad. We accept your antipathy. We even understand your need to 'diss' our guys on the ice. But for Graces' sake, don't make yourself sound like a petulant child after the fact.

That's all, Graces. Now I'm off to put on my orange and black in preparation for tonight's game.

Go Flyers!

Rudeness in the Office

A question came in about office rudeness, so of course Michael Scott sprung to mind.



Dear Social Grace:

I need some advice on how to handle a difficult coworker.

What's a Grace to do when:
1. My office mate keeps interrupting me, both when I am on the phone and when I am speaking to someone in person?
2. This same office mate bad-mouths a co-worker... (namely me) to the point of sending text messages to a client advising this client to go directly to the boss without passing through the secretary?

--the secretary

Grace Says:

Oh, dear.

Let's start with question #1. Try this: When the interruption occurs on the phone, point to the phone, gesture that you'll be with her in a minute, and ignore further interruption. If the colleague continues to interrupt, politely say to the customer, "Excuse me Ms. Customer, would you excuse me for a brief moment." Then turn to Jabber Jane and ask if there is an emergency. When she says there is not, then tell her you are in the middle of something and will deal with her issue when you are through. If this occurs a few times, JJ should get the hint. If not, this might be a job for Human Resources.

As to question #2...This is a bit more complicated. But, you can never go wrong with either of these two options:

1. Take no action. To paraphrase an oldie but goodie, "Doing well is the best revenge." If you do your job well to the benefit of the organization, that will speak for itself. (But it might be wise to keep a documented record of the sabotaging acts that your colleague commits in the event that things escalate down the road.)

2. Ask for help. You can either do so via your boss or the HR Director of your company. Let him/her know that you and Jane have had some issues and you want to do your best to iron them out. Request that he/she assist with the discussion. What you really want is a reasonable third party who Jane will have to respect to serve as mediator and more importantly, witness. What you don't want is to come across as a tattletale, so be sure not to trash Jane, no matter how much she deserves it. You need to convey a desire to help the company by heading off a potential personnel problem, not a desire (no matter how fervent it is) to get Jane into trouble.

A third option is to confront Jane directly, but I don't recommend that; she sounds unreasonable and if cornered she might retaliate in more destructive ways.

Good Luck!

Accepting Compliments

Some people say thank you....Just ask the late, lamented cast of Will and Grace:



It seems that we as a species have trouble accepting compliments. I've been asked about this informally before, and I just received an email from a new reader about it. So, it seemed a ripe time to address it generally.

I've riffed plenty on the insulting comments before: "Jane, you look so nice I almost didn't recognize you!" or "Bob, what a cute little diamond you gave your fiancee". Those are complicated; you don't want to make a scene (Graces abhor scenes) but neither do you want to take abuse. However, that is a topic for another day.

Straightforward compliments should be received exactly as they are given--in a straightforward way. A simple thank you is all that is required. If you wish, you can add "it was nice of you to notice" or "how kind of you to say so."

What you must never, never, do is dispute the remark. Not only do you look foolish and inappropriately self-disparaging by denying the value of your new haircut/effective sales pitch/delicious dinner, but you may appear disagreeable and argumentative. If someone tells you that your sweater is lovely, don't say, "this old thing? it's a rag!" By doing so, you essentially insult the admirer by implying that their taste and judgment are lacking.

Many of us are hardwired toward self-effacement. This can be sweet, endearing, and downright hilarious. But like everything, Graces, there's a time and a place. Great to invoke when a friend is feeling embarrassed about a mishap at work--DO share the fact that you attended a business event with your pants ripped and your undies fully exposed like I did last week. It will both make her laugh and make her feel better about her snafu. Not great when your friend is attempting a diet and you carp on about how fat you are--particularly as she outweighs you by a good 20 lbs.

So next time your supervisor commends you for a job well done, thank her. Two little words that will never fail you.

How to Deflect Unsolicited Advice

Dear Social Grace,

I recently ran into a well-meaning former colleague who shared with me that his son, like mine, has special needs challenges. As our kids are about the same age, it was clear from the conversation that we've both been dealing with these issues for, well, a long time. Throughout our brief encounter, he repeatedly pressed for me to have lunch with him so he could give me his "valuable insights" on the subject. I did not convey any need for such insights, nor do I particularly want his. I was wondering if there is a graceful way to handle his repeated entreaties to have this "very instructive lunch".

I don't mind meeting the guy for a sandwich, but I don't want to dwell on on this topic. Is it completely gruntish of me to set parameters before I meet him?


Grace Says:

Oooh, I loathe opinionated know-it-alls. Especially ones who don't respect boundaries.

No, in this case it's not Gruntish. What is Gruntish is this chap's repeated desire to impart his, um, wisdom to you about a highly personal and sensitive subject. My suspicion is that he is seeking just the opposite; he undoubtedly feels isolated under the circ's and is hoping to connect with someone in the same situation. But that's not your problem. You are more than entitled to retain your Grace status and avoid this uncomfortable conversation by simply saying:

"Fred, I'd be delighted to have lunch with you. You mentioned that you are eager to share your experiences about your son, but I tend to try to keep personal and business separate. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. I'd really like to hear about your new job. It's been awhile since we worked together, and I'm interested in your career path since we parted ways. Let's meet at Joe's Deli and we can catch up."

If you don't think he'll abide by that, then plead the pressures of work and tell him that your dance card is full in the foreseeable future.

Good luck and thanks for writing!

Grace, Overexposed

As I told you in my previous post, Graces, it's been an epically humiliating week. On the heels of my email snafu, I survived, well, for lack of a better term, a wardrobe malfunction. It wasn't as widely watched or overly exposing as JLo's slip at the Oscars, but it was mortifying nonetheless.

Here's the story....

I was invited to a press event to cover a restaurant launch on behalf of the Philly Food Lovers. Thrilled to be offered such a plumb gig--free appetizers, free drinks, and interesting people in the food and media worlds--I spruced myself up and headed over. I had donned a new spring outfit for the occasion: a pair of black, snugly fitting trousers with a black cami, topped with a bright yellow knit blazer. Upon arriving at the launch party, I sampled the food and drinks on offer, took copious notes and photos, talked with the chef, the GM, several of the restaurant's suppliers, and various other movers and shakers. Upon departing this lovely event, I planned to write a favorable review and was quite pleased with the entire affair.

Imagine my shock, dismay and deflation when, upon arriving home, my daughter said, "Mom, you have a hole in the crotch of your pants. I can see your undies." And Graces, I am horrified to tell you that the undergarments on display were bright red.

What's a Grace to do?

Really, at that point, all you can do is laugh it off.

In looking back, I was trying to decide whether my cardinal rule, that Graces Tell (unobtrusively, of course, about spinach in the teeth, unzipped flies, exposed tags, etc.) would apply here. Because the rule is intended to address a condition that can be immediately remedied. This was not the case with my gaping hole. Unless the restaurant doubled as a tailor shop (which did not seem to be the case), the revelation would have served to make me impossibly self-conscious and forced me to leave abruptly, thus missing out on the chocolate covered figs paired with port wine. I suppose I could have removed my jacket and tied it, backwards, around my waist, but in addition to looking unfashionable, it would have left my top half inappropriately exposed for a business event on an early spring evening.

So, in the end, I concluded that ignorance was bliss, even though I was mortified afterwards. And I will be sure to inspect all apparel--even brand new clothes--before donning them.


Have you suffered any embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions of late?

E-mail Oops

Well, Graces, it's been a heckuva week. I suffered not one but two epic humiliations, and I am here to share the first one with you in the hope that you will avoid similar mishaps. It involves an email gone oh-so-terribly wrong.

I have discussed email etiquette before, but this time I was guilty of the 'oops'. Here's the story:

We have been dealing with a clerical error on our City taxes for over a year. We did not make the error, that was done by a now unrelated third party but City Revenue Department has no interest in the original cause. Nor do they care that we owe them absolutely no money; they simply demand that we file some enormous stack of complicated forms to demonstrate that there was an error made by a third party. The burden remains on us or we will continue to receive harassing letters threatening enormous fines (for zero taxes due), jail time, repossession of our home, and ultimately, the reclamation of our vital organs.

My Grant of a hubby finally found a human being who was willing to answer our questions and he worked tirelessly to remedy the complication (hubby, not revenue guy.) Just when we thought the coast was clear, the accursed third party sent another erroneous piece of paper and upset the apple cart once more.

My patient husband approached his contact in the Revenue Department via email, cc'd me, and asked how we remedy the problem (again). The Revenue Guy sent back a convoluted email describing the regressive and onerous tasks we had to complete (again) to free us of this yoke. Frustrated, I sent back to hubby, "It astonishes me that more people who work for the Revenue Dept. are not murdered."

But I sent it to the Revenue Guy.

Oops.

Under the Circ's, What's a Grace to Do?

Well, I immediately listened for the SWAT team that was doubtless speeding toward my house. I mean, threatening a civil servant is a major criminal offense, right? I also careened between hysterical laughter at the hilarity of the incident, and bone-chilling terror at the consequences of my action.

Then I emailed an enormously contrite message: "Please disregard previous email. I was intending to send it as a commiserating joke to my husband in light of the frustration we have had with this mishap. I am terribly sorry for sending it to you and sincerely hope you are not offended. We are profoundly grateful for the help you have given us through this process. I deeply apologize for any offense I may have caused and I really, really, really hope you have a sense of humor."

He sent back a curt: "I'm glad you clarified this. I wasn't sure of your intent. No problem." Not exactly, "It could happen to anyone, we're all pals together and let's go have a margarita," but I guess it was the best I could hope for, Graces. I mean Revenue Department Directors are not exactly known for their charm, wit and sparkle, are they. Oddly, my husband has yet to see the humor in this.

I also delivered a bag of homemade pistachio, cherry, dark chocolate bark tied with a pretty green ribbon along with a very contrite note of thanks to the Revenue chap's office the very next day. He came out to receive the bag, my personal apology, and my thanks. He even shook my hand.

So, I haven't been arrested for making terroristic threats to a civil servant. But we still don't have the tax snafu sorted out. And April 15 is a few weeks away. If we get a thorough audit we'll know why.

Moral of the story, Graces? Check, Double Check and Triple Check before hitting Send. If you don't, it can have dreadfully dire consequences.

Next post: my other epic humiliation involving overexposure. Have you suffered any whoppers lately?

How to Say Thanks for a Mystery Gift

Dear Social Grace,

I am in a quandary. I recently celebrated a milestone birthday and was thrown a lovely surprise party. It was a great evening, and many friends generously bestowed gifts upon me. But one gift did not containe a card revealing which of my friends was the bestower. I can't bear the thought of not thanking the person, but short of asking each person if he or she brought the gift I can't solve the mystery. The obvious solutions do not work: process of elimination is out because everyone who came did not bring a gift, and calling the store where the gift was purchased was a dead end; they had way to trace the item. What do you recommend?

--Birthday Girl

Dear BG,

First of all, happy birthday! Aren't surprises wonderful?

But on to your question.

Your best option is to write effusive notes to all who came thanking them for helping you celebrate your bday in such festive and fun fashion. This way, the mystery giver will receive a note of thanks, and if there is any confusion about the gift, she can contact you and ascertain that you did in fact receive the scented candle, cashmere scarf, or Ferrari that she left your as a token commemorating your milestone.

The only other possibility is to have a third party make discrete inquiries, but this is complicated and this is fraught with pitfalls. Upon being asked, those who did not bring a gift may feel uncomfortable and obliged to dash out and deliver one; even if you ID the right one he/she will be embarrassed by the gift tagging error. The person you appoint will have to be something between a True Grace and Mata Hari and that is a rare combo.

You Don't Say, Again

It astonishes me that this scourge continues. The latest form that I have observed is actually somewhat related to last week's series of posts by guest blogger Isa Catto Shaw on bereavement. It doesn't deal with death, but does demonstrate what not to say when commenting on the difficulties of others. In other words, prime illustrations of people who never learned that oh-so-simple rule "If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing."

I've seen a lot of really ugly parent on parent commentary of late.....Two examples come to mind in particular, variations on the same thoughtless, rude, and maybe even cruel theme:

1. Parent A has a child with severe ADHD. Parent A works hard to help said child with the challenge, and has made strides through various interventions. Parent B has a child with a similar challenge--in fact, the kids share a tutor and attend the same study skills seminar. Parent B is often heard to say to Parent A "Gosh, I don't know how you do it. Your situation is so much worse than ours. I mean, you're in a whole different ball park."

2. J has a teenage nephew with severe anxiety. One of the treatments for the anxiety was for the nephew to travel alone on a visit to J, experience the successful separation from his home, and gain confidence in reducing his nerves. He did, and a good time was had by all. J's friend, Parent Q has a child with an almost identical disorder; upon meeting J's nephew during the visit, Parent Q pulled J aside and said, "Wow. I'm really glad that my son doesn't have anything that bad. I mean, I'm really worried about that kid. Our problem is very simple and easily fixed. Not your nephew's though. Whew. His poor parents."


In the face of such abject rudeness, What's a Grace To Do?

You have two options.

Option one is to say nothing. True Graces diffuse rather than escalate situations, so the UberGrace simply ignores the heartless comment, chalks it up to Gruntliness, changes the subject, or tactfully removes herself from the situation.

In choosing Option One, and if you aspire to sainthood in addition to Gracehood, you can consider the villains' perspectives; perhaps they think they are being empathetic by recognizing how difficult these problems are. (They are, of course dreadfully wrong). Or perhaps they are seeking to make themselves feel better by favorably comparing their situation to one they deem more difficult. (They have absolutely no right to tromp on the feelings of others in order to bolster their own.)

Option two is to say something. If the diffusion option is too passive for you, or if you have simply had enough, here are some responses which assert your position while still maintaining some Grace.

Try:
"I tend to avoid comparisons, I just focus on our situation and wish the best for everyone."

Or (slightly more assertive):

"I'm sure you are trying to be empathetic, and for that I thank you, but that doesn't make me feel any better."

[I know, I know, you are tempted to say, "If you could pry your Joey off the chandelier I'm sure I could more clearly see how much better your ball park is than mine," but it won't do you any good.]

"I'm really proud of nephew; he's done a great job facing his fears and we've had a lovely visit."

"I'm glad you're glad."

[Resist the urge to remind Parent Q that her son assumed the fetal position and hyperventilated under the desk when the school planned a trip to the Art Museum sans parent chaperons.]

Have you witnessed any parent on parent nastiness lately? What did YOU do?