Houston wee have a problem
Four friends were dining over lunch in a swish Adelaide restaurant last weekend when a woman at the next table pulled out her chair and proceeded to change her baby’s nappy on the floor.
Can you believe that? The four friends couldn’t. They were so stunned they decided to phone The Sunday Mail.
“It was just so unhygienic and inappropriate,” said one. “Luckily it was only a wet nappy – imagine if it had been really messy.”
No thanks, ladies. Might put me off my own lunch. But talk about taking the new mums’ cause back 20 years.
We’ve finally got to a stage where discreet public breast feeding is accepted (I use the word ‘discreet’ because I’m not big on full boob disclosure) and some rude chick suddenly thinks we all need to watch little precious at change time, too.
As a nurse friend of mine said, urine is urine. “You wouldn’t let your husband stand up and pee in the middle of a restaurant, so why would anyone think it’s OK to change a baby’s wet nappy?”
Not cool. Not appropriate. And sadly, not restricted to nappy changing.
From Myspace to My Store, it’s all about ‘me’ these days. My Life. My Rights. My Choice. The rest of you can just suck it up. And because the rest of us are lame with a capital L when it comes to confrontation, most of the time we do just that.
We seethe in silence while people with no mobile phone etiquette boom out their private conversations in very public spaces like buses and restaurants and even movie theatres.
We tsk tsk when smokers light their cancer sticks in outdoor dining spaces, paying total disregard to fumes wafting over others trying to eat. (Kudos to Adelaide City Council for offering financial incentives to eateries banning smoking at outside tables.)
We avert embarrassed eyes as tongue-twisting couples engage in over-zealous public displays of affection. And it could be worse, I suppose: The NT News online ran video footage on Thursday of a naked couple having sex on the balcony of an inner-city Darwin hotel.
Clearly ‘get a room’ means something a little different in the Territory.
There are highly offensive, totally inappropriate public displays of personal freedom. And then there are the little things that just make the rest of us grumpy.
Make no mistake, girls, great clefts of cleavage are no more desirable than deep shadows of bottom crack. (And when did it become fashionable to show more flesh than the fillies at the races?)
Anything that’s ‘better out than in’ should most definitely stay in when you’re out.
Blowing your nose is a necessity but it’s not a party trick. Please leave the table first.
And while we’re back on the subject of dining out, do not ignore people at the table while you continually text others on your mobile. If we wanted to be bored witless, we’d have stayed home and watched The Renovators.
When you’re waiting for bar service, don’t jump ahead when the waiter asks “who was next?” We know you know you’re not next. And we know you know that we know.
Don’t kiss Australians on both cheeks. It might be how they do it in Europe, but here it feels plain silly.
If you’re big and strong, fellas, there should be no need to prove it in with a vice-like handshake. Likewise, don’t be a limp fish. It’s very unattractive.
A friend who works in retail says one customer comes in regularly and races around collecting clothes. Just when they think she’s headed for the fitting rooms, she strips to her undies in front of the closest mirror.
Lady: change rooms are there for a reason. And while we’re at it: leggings are NOT jeans, no matter how they’re marketed.
Another friend was aghast when a new mum turned up at her house for a coffee, with potty-training toddler and potty in tow, and let her child go pee pee in the middle of the kitchen table. Straight to the naughty corner for that one.
So to those of you who like to put ‘me’ ahead of ‘we’, here’s a tip from the rest of us suffering in silence: go exercise your personal freedoms someplace else.
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