O.C., ME?

When Joel and I saw this action figure in a store recently, we laughingly commented that it would make at great gag gift for several people in the family who have those tendencies. But during the preparation for my volunteer banquet yesterday, I had to admit to Kim and Marcia that setting up a dining room brings out obsessive compulsive behavior even in me. I must have all the tables evenly spaced. I don't go so far as requiring the use of a tape measure; my eye and floor tiles suffice. It was when we started setting the tables, though, that my O.C.-ness really became evident. The chef and I got into a good-natured "discussion" about whether the napkin goes to the left or the right of the plate. He insisted the napkin goes on the right, but I know it goes on the left , and I held my ground until he finally said, "Okay, it's your event." I then instructed my helpers from the women's shelter on the placement of the napkins (folded edge to the left) and utensils: fork on the left, knife (blade turned in) and spoon on the right. The ladies questioned my instructions because they had never seen a table set that way before. They were of the opinion that all utensils go to the right of the plate. Marcia and I explained that sometimes that is done for convenience, but it is not correct by etiquette standards. They received the instruction and made a good effort to accommodate my wishes. I knew better than to insist they apply the "one inch from the table edge rule," so after the ladies left, I went around the room and made my little adjustments. How many of my 100 guests noticed the care taken to each place setting? Probably not many, but I was able to enjoy the evening knowing everything was "just right."