MANNERS
How to Respond to Coffee Shop Space-Hoggers
Take a seat, hold your ground and don’t back down
You’re at your favorite coffee shop. You want to get a latte and a croissant and then sit for a while and enjoy your snack while reading a book or just people watching. But every table is occupied.
There are couples at two-tops and groups of friends crowding around larger tables. But most of the tables are occupied by single customers who have plunked themselves down at a table for two or more people, then spread their stuff all over the table, as if to indicate:
DO NOT SIT HERE!!!
THERE IS NO ROOM AT THIS TABLE FOR YOU!!
THIS TABLE IS MINE!!!!
Claim Your Space
Many people, faced with this scenario, will lurk around the edges of the shop, waiting for one of these space-hoggers to get up and leave.
This is not how I meet this challenge.
If there are no available tables because solo customers have claimed them all by sitting down and spreading their stuff out? I have no problem walking over to the nearest four-top, taking a seat and putting my coffee down on whatever space I can find — or create.
And I don’t ask, “Is this seat taken?”
Clearly it isn’t. Unless the space-hogger is here with three invisible friends. I just sit down.
Here’s how I see it. If somebody is sitting at a table and there’s an empty seat? Another customer is entitled to sit down in that seat.
I don’t have to ask permission. Sitting in an empty seat at one of those tables is my right. I purchased a latte and a croissant. Which means? That empty seat is for ME.
Yeah, it’s a little rude not to politely ask if the seat is taken. But it’s just as rude to hog a table to yourself when the coffee shop is crowded.
And here’s the thing. Space-hoggers rarely protest when I sit down at “their” table uninvited. They usually just clear a little space for me on the table and keep working.
Why? Because they know that I’m entitled to sit there. This isn’t their living room and that’s not their table. I’ve called their bluff — and I win!
Imaginary Friends
Once in a while, the Table-Hogger will claim they’re saving that seat for a friend.
“No problem,” I’ll say, cheerfully. “I’ll just warm the seat until your friend gets here.”
And there I’ll sit. Until the friend arrives. Or the friend fails to arrive because the friend never existed and was just an excuse the Space-Hogger invented to make me go away.
If another table empties up, of course, I’ll move over to that one rather than continuing to share the table with the Space-Hogger. I like to assert my rights but I enjoy having a table to myself too.
But once I’ve got that new table to myself, do I spread my stuff all over the place to deter other customers from sitting there?
Nope. Because that would be rude and anti-social. And while I can be just as anti-social as the next introvert, when I’m out and about, the point is to interact with my fellow human beings, not keep them at arm’s length.
If another table doesn’t open up? I’ll just settle in at the table I now share with the former Space-Hogger.
A Coffee Shop is About Community
Sometimes, after I’ve been at the table for a while, the Space-Hogger will ask if I’d be willing to keep an eye on their stuff for them while they head off to use the bathroom or step outside for a smoke.
This is what’s known in the writing biz as irony.
“I’d be glad to,” I tell them. I never add, “See? Sharing works! And being part of the give and take of a community instead of insisting on holding yourself apart and claiming the most territory is better for everybody.”
If they have any sense, they can figure that out for themselves. And if not, maybe they’ll end up reading this essay and realize that it’s all about them.
Writing Coach and editor-for-hire Roz Warren, who writes for everyone from the Funny Times to the New York Times, can help you improve and publish your work. Drop her a line at [email protected]. (That’s Ros with an “s,” not a “z.”)
