Simply by leaving your home, you're allowing other people to see you. In seeing you, they're going to judge you. That's the agreement involved in entering the public sphere. All in all, this unspoken agreement is an incredibly good thing, for two specific reasons: entertainment and sanity. Regarding entertainment, I'm referring to the enjoyment derived in watching those who either don't recognize the existence of such an agreement or choose to ignore their responsibility within it. I can offer this simple analogy to elucidate: What's the most fun thing at Great America? That's right, the trash. Jean shorts, huge hoop earrings, socks and sandals, and T-shirts with the wearer's name freshly "tagged" across the front with an airbrush, almost every example of what not to do is perfectly presented for your entertainment. This, truly, is the only reason anyone would stand in a three-hour line for a two-minute-ride not named Houston. Regarding sanity, would anyone really want to go to Great America every day, constantly surrounded, with no escape? It is the rules of etiquette that keep us sane. For all the great laughs we might get out of that kid with Korn T-shirt and black jean shorts, who doesn't realize that what was a shitty trend in its prime is years buried, these laughs would come less easily as they became more frequent. It ceases to be a joke when you have no one with whom to share the story. Enjoyment would become exasperation if you were the one being ridiculed for not wearing jean shorts.
Specific situaions are also governed by the laws of etiquette, thankfully. How does the night that you enter a bar affect the way that you act? Or, how does which bar you enter effect the way you act? Regardless of whether or not you do it consciously, you affect a specific air about yourself that seems most applicable to the bar you're about to enter. A sports bar is far different than a dance club, and going to either on Sunday night is different than going on Saturday night. To wit, while a white tee might be completely within the bounds of propriety for a sports bar on a Tuesday, it may not send the same message on Saturday night. On Tuesday night, it's probably fair to say that there is no dress code. On the weekend, there's always a dress code, only it may not be enforced by the bar, but by its patrons. Imagine that you notice that cute girl in the black pants and blue shirt staring at you? Is she staring at you because you're attractive, or because it seems to her that you're lost? Her looks may be inviting you to talk to her, but also may be a subtle method of explaining that no one actually watches Baseball Tonight on the bar television on Friday – at least, not at her bar. If you and your girlfriends are dancing at a neighborhood bar on a Sunday or Monday night, the guys at the bar aren't admiring your moves, but silently wishing that you'd die, quickly. There are certain standards for each bar that tend to differ on each night, and respecting them is a must. No one likes the loud girl, and no one likes the loud guy. While wearing a sports jersey to a dance club will get you ostracized, wearing a jersey to a sports bar will only confirm to the rest of the patrons that you, like them, have never gotten laid, and might ease your integration into the situation. Does this reek of conformism? It should. Individuality has been misunderstood, at least in the context of outward expression. You do not compromise your individuality by pausing as you prepare yourself for an evening out to ask yourself if what you plan on wearing will fit in with those with whom you'll soon be sharing space. You compromise your individuality only with a consistent effort to subvert that which is truly unique about you. If your clothes are what makes you unique, I'm not quite sure what to say. Except that, simply by existing, you commit a crime on humanity.

In dating, there are innumerable rules of etiquette. No one acts the same way on a first date as they do on a date three years in to a relationship. Do you order exactly what you want on your first date, never thinking about how after you've enjoyed your endless salad bar and breadsticks, she'll never look at you quite the same way? Or, for those of you who are wealthy enough to think beyond Olive Garden as a classy date, do you act the same way at your fancy restaurants? Do you assume the same posture at the table, or speak as freely as you might later on in your time spent together? After how many dates is it OK to talk about how hot her friend is?

Now, let's imagine what it might be like if there were no rules of etiquette. The world would be far different, and far scarier. If you find it hard to imagine what it might be like, simply take the Skyway to I-90, and exit at Portage. Etiquette is, in many ways, the only thing that allows people with different views on life to occupy the same space. If people refuse to respect and maintain the rules that have been reached only through years of subtle tweaking, there is no common ground on which two people who have absolutely nothing in common can stand together without developing a sense of hatred for each other.