Blink-And-You’ll-Miss-It Etiquette Lesson

etiquette

"A recent Yahoo study indicates that the days in which emoticons were considered as unacceptably casual as flip-flops at work are over."


From the NYT. Let me be clear here. Flip-flops are still not acceptable in an office. They are even less acceptable now that they are either all jangly-jangly trussed up with rhinestones, or as slappity-slap-slap loud as Havaianas. Beach shoes. Shower shoes. Leave them in Negril.

Just because Havaianas are the "cool" brand of rubber flip-flops now does not make them haute couture or acceptable at work. It also does not make it acceptable for them to cost over $10.

Furthermore, those flip-flops with the inner contour footbed situation are not acceptable either. They're probably more comfortable than your basic rubber flop, but they are still too devil-may-care for the workplace. Unless the workplace is the pool at the Y.

Confidential to Lisa Belkin: Why wasn't I interviewed for this article?

[T]his is the first time in history that four generations — those who lived through World War II, Baby Boomers, Generation X and Generation Y — are together in the workplace.

Managers tell stories of summer associates who come to meetings with midriffs exposed, baring a belly ring; of interns who walk through the halls engaged with iPods; of new hires who explain they need Fridays off because their boyfriends get Fridays off and they have a share in a beach house. Then there is the tale of the summer hire who sent a text message to a senior partner asking “Are bras required as part of the dress code?”

I'm all over that shit, yo. Just kidding. Kind of.

Which brings me to emoticons. It's possible I'm coming around. I have long lamented the lack of tone on email, mostly because no one gets my deadpan humor and I'm terrified of insulting people. I don't know if I could bring myself to "wink" at you after I make some comment, but I do appreciate people smiling to let me know they still like me after they send me something I might construe as mean and/or disappointing.

I have been watching a lot of Kathy Griffin. Who was ROBBED of her rightful seat on The View, PS. (I haven't dignified yesterday's announcement of Whoopi and Sherri Who-the-Hell-Are-You-Again-Besides-A-Little-Conservative? as Rosie's "replacement" because I am now giving The View one year. Those two people are not interesting to me. Nor are they funny. Or provcocative. Or good-looking.)

Anyway, Kathy. I think she's funny. I saw her on my Larry King Video Podcast (Yes, this is what it has come down to) and found her hilarious. So, inspired by KG, my new excuse for anything I say that is or is not funny is "That's something I'm working on for my act." I have decided to have a fictional "act" that I'm working on, as if I were a stand-up comedian. This is not unlike One Woman's Opinion, the fictional book of everything I think. It is fun to say "Oh, sorry I hurt your feelings, that's just a bit I'm working on for my act." Or when someone laughs, "Oh good, I'm thinking about using that in my act." Or if something falls flat, "I guess I'm going to have to refine that bit before I put it in my act."

The foundation of my act is a one-liner I came up with at dinner with Leigh & Stefanie the other night. It's a little dirty and I don't think I can repeat it here. I think it's a stellar bit, really a very good joke, but too racy for this family website. Because I don't want my six-year-old fans, or my sizeable senior citizen readership reading a joke about roofies. ;) Email me if you want to hear it.

Oh dear god that emoticon looks LiveJournal-idiotic up there. It hurts me to leave it. Like I am getting acid stomach just looking at it. I won't look at it.

PS I have been posting more frequently to my Tumblr blog recently. It's good for quick inspirations. Also I find myself curiously drawn to Facebook. Who am I to spurn LiveJournal. I'll be blogging there soon, just watch me. Next stop, Webkins.

  • Previous Blink-And-You'll-Miss-It Etiquette Lessons
  • Bonus: When My View obsession was at its dorkiest, I went to see Joy Behar live.