The Etiquette Of Close Quarters
LatestLike mildew, awkwardness tends to breed in enclosed spaces. Living or working in cramped quarters can create difficult situations for even the most socially adept of us. Today, we’ll show you how to handle it.
A little warning goes a long way.
For some reason, one of my biggest social nightmares is having to squeeze past someone I don’t know very well in a small space. I think it’s because I’m worried I’ll accidentally touch their butt and seem like a creepy harasser, even though I just wanted to get some tea or something. I spoke to Christine Brun, syndicated columnist, interior designer, and author of Small Space Living, who explained what may be behind my fear: small spaces create a forced physical intimacy with people we might not ordinarily want intimacy with. The solution? Words. Don’t do what I do and sort of hover awkwardly until you think you have an opening and then jump for it, only to bash against the other person’s shoulder. And don’t invade their personal space without asking. Instead, give a simple verbal warning. Melissa Kirsch, author of The Girl’s Guide To Absolutely Everything, advocates brevity:
Develop a shorthand for “Get the hell out of my way.” Maybe it’s a lighthearted “On your right” the way they do on the ski slopes (after you get your own apartment, get a condo in Aspen), something quick that serves to alert your roommate that you’re passing by, but doesn’t brook a lot of inflection or meaning so you can keep the transaction dispassionate and all business — just passing by, not making a federal case out of the fact that you’re always in my way and don’t you ever go out, if you can lie directly in my path talking on the phone to your mom the least you could do is wash a dish every once in a while. Which is to say, tight quarters call for brief, utilitarian communication to keep the peace.
At work, something more formal may be called for:
[A] simple and lighthearted “Pardon me,” should do it. I like “Pardon me” because there’s a little formality there that is sorely lacking in modern society. It helps redress the balance when half the office is wearing flip-flops and Daisy Dukes and texting during meetings.
Make your voice sound nice.
When you’re delivering your verbal warning — or alerting someone to your presence so they can let you squeeze by — friendliness is your friend. Says Kirsch,
It’s all in the delivery. Never has such an allegedly polite utterance been used for such evil as the deceptively humble “Excuse me.” We’ve all been victims (and probably perpetrators) of the exasperated “Excuse me” (oft-accompanied by a stage sigh); the “Excuse me” that secretly means “Excuse you!”, usually
deployed as a means of schooling the brute who just smacked you with her oversize Goyard tote; or the high-pitched, sing-song “Excuse me!!!” that betrays just how taut it is possible for nerves to be just before they snap.
Her alternative: