I was sitting cross-legged in a chair, elbows planted firmly on the table, eating chicken off the bone held delicately in my hands. It was not my most viewable moment, but I was in the kitchen, and the only other person present was my mother, who thought this sort of thing was really cute when I was three, and presumably still does.
“Are you like this on dates?” she asks.
“Yes, of course,” I say. “I want him to see the real me.”
No duh I am not!
I would think most people are pretty clear on how far they can push etiquette with strangers. So do we really need a classroom course on how to date?