Bookmark and Share

Monday 30th July 2012

There should be some online guide or app that is dedicated to social manners and etiquette, on which you can just instantaneously look up any situation and it will tell you the correct way to behave. But as there isn't I am going to make this blog do the job, as and when those instances come up.
This morning I was coming back up to my hotel room after taking a load of stuff to the car. I was alone, travelling up in the lift (the posh one that speaks to you in French) and got to my floor. As the door opened I saw that a couple were standing, waiting to get into the lift to go down to the lobby. They had all their suitcases with them and were completely blocking my exit. As I was clearly making to get out I assumed one of them might move aside to let me through, but they didn't. In fact I am pretty sure they started entering the lift. I mumbled that I was getting out, but it didn't make any difference. I was forced to exit from the corner of the lift, barging past them a little bit, almost tripping over the lady's suitcase.
The couple pushed steam-rollered into the elevator and as I tried to work out which way to go to my room the woman said in a sarcastic voice, "Oooh, excuse me!" She was clearly implying that I had been the rude one here by daring to get in the way of their very important lives. As fate would have it the doors of the lift didn't close straight away, so I was able to challenge her sarcastic remark. "I'm sorry," I said, "What were you expecting me to do there? I was trying to get out of the lift and you were in the way. It isn't me who should be apologising." The couple went silent for a few moments and this was quite a scary moment for them I guess. They perhaps hadn't expected me to hear or to be hanging around and I was challenging them in a slightly angry way. Because I wasn't at fault.
Finally the man said, "You're supposed to let ladies go first, you idiot."
Now I was pretty riled. I am a courteous person and still believe in holding open doors for others and letting them go first (regardless of gender). But if you're in a situation where you're getting in and out of a lift or on and off a train then you let the person get out or off before you try to get in or on. It's common sense. If people with loads of luggage get on a lift that you're trying to exit then you won't be able to exit. These people were in their 50s and must surely have learned this fact by now. I was properly riled, but he had chosen his moment carefully and the lift doors had already begun to close. I shouted after them, "Not if you're getting on and off a lift, you prick." They were lucky they were heading away, but I was so cross at being called an idiot in a situation where I wasn't an idiot that I was considering jumping in the other lift and having it out with them at reception. He had called me an idiot and challenged my chivalry and totally failed to apologise for his own selfish disregard for manners, that I think I would have been justified in popping him in his stupid nose and not a court in the land would have convicted me. Or every court would have. Not quite sure on that one.
But had I had an app I could have gone down to the lobby and rather than punching him just shown him the section on lift etiquette and he would have had to grovelling apologise and so would his wide and obstructive wife.
It wasn't their selfishness that had enraged me so much as the sarcastic and sniggering "Oooh excuse me" that accompanied it and the sense of entitlement that makes some people think the world is a film of their life and so anyone who crosses their path has to get out of their way and not vice versa. Luckily I just went back to the room and told my own wife about it. She said, "Are you going to tweet it?" and I said, "No, don't be ridiculous..... there's no way I can explain this in 140 characters. I am going to blog about it." And I did.
I would have felt even more morally superior but for the fact that part of the reason I was loitering by the lifts was that I was looking around to see if there was a maid's trolley nearby so I could steal some shampoo. I am not saying if I managed to find any. But if you see me in Edinburgh you can sniff my hair and see if you recognise the distinctive Malmaision shampoo aroma.
But there wasn't time to track down and murder the rude couple (so if they turn up dead then it is nothing to do with me) as we had to drive up to Edinburgh. The sat nav took us on an unfamiliar cross country route, which was very pretty but which meant we didn't pass the familiar landmarks on the way up so the glorious Silver Jubilee entrance into the city was a bit anti-climactic. I suspect that the denizens of my capital were lining the wrong route with banners and petals and palm leaves. Or they're saving the big surprise party for the end to make it look like they'd forgotten. You pesky subjects.
It was the usual Edinburgh shennanighans of trying to load all our stuff into the flat with the car on double yellow lines, doing a massive supermarket shop, trying to work out why the internet and freezer weren't working and then trying to find somewhere to park the car. We're in the south part of the city this year (I think, I am never sure which way is up and down in Edinburgh) and so my usual space was a long way away, so I hoped to find somewhere nearer. I had the option of paying £80 a week to park in a nearby carpark, but to be stung for another tenner a day when I am already paying so much for the flat jarred a little bit, especially as I am unlikely to use the car much during August. I tweeted to see if anyone knew where the nearest non-permit, non-metered parking was to Bristo Square and had a little drive around Marchmont to no avail. But Twitter again proved to be a lovely place and not all Edinburgh citizens weren't up for making as much money as possible from any given situation as a few people offered me their vacant car spaces for free. And one of them wasn't too far away. So I took the risk that it might be a Misery style trap and took up the offer.
Then we had dinner which made me feel a lot better (we had sort of forgotten to eat today) and a man came round and found the broken wire that was making the internet not work and I looked at the freezer and found a tiny dial inside that was turned down to zero and turned it up to four and all was well with the world.
After feeling stressed out all day I found myself walking through the familiar streets of Edinburgh on the way to meet my street team (the young men and women who will be leafleting for me this year) and I felt content and happy. I saw a 12 year old boy gawping in wonder at my lack of penis on my poster and enjoyed the fact that although the word "Cock" is censored from the title, it's still in tact on the quote from the Scotsman.
None of the street team were born when I first came to the Fringe. Or the 2nd time. Some of them might have been foetuses when I did the dum show in 91. It's possible that the parents of some of the performers at this year's Fringe weren't alive when I first came up here.
But even these awful realisations couldn't dampen my mood. It's great to be back and I am looking forward to what this year will bring.

By the way a few changes and additions to the podcast line-ups

2nd Sarah Kendall - Iszi Lawrence
3rd Peacock and Gamble - Catie Wilkins
4th Marek Larwood - Doug Segal
5th Andrew O'Neill - Juliet Meyers
6th Brendon Burns - Mary Bourke
7th Lucy Porter - Markus Birdman
8th Mick Foley - Gavin Webster
9th Nina Conti - Christian Reilly
10th Matthew Kelly- Matthew Osborn
11th Craig Campbell - Helen Keen
12th Janet Ellis - Ahir Shah
13th DAY OFF
14th TBC - Grainne Maguire
15th Sarah Millican - TBC
16th Simon Munnery and Tony Law - Lou Sanders
17th Susan Calman - TBC
18th Nick Helm - Jay Foreman
19th
20th Al Murray - TBC

Bookmark and Share



Subscribe to my Substack here
See RHLSTP on tour Guests and ticket links here
Help us make more podcasts by becoming a badger You get loads of extras if you do.
To join Richard's Substack (and get a lot of emails) visit:

richardherring.substack.com