Pete’s 17 Somewhat Snarky Points of Etiquette for Public Laptopping in a Coffee Shop. Or Wherever.

Peter Simon
11 min readJul 21, 2018

You have a laptop and go to the coffee shop; this makes you a laptopper.

More people doing this every day, which means it means more people might be doing it a little wrong. Not wrong like, I’m totally right and youuuu buddy are totally wrong. But let’s say some people are not being helpful to the rest of us in the coffee shop.

With each dance we do as humans, in each place whether it’s physical or virtual in which we gather, there are rules. Guidelines. Conventions. When you bring that laptop out to get work done or just surf over a latte, there are some things you should do, and some things you shouldn’t.

I’m here to help you navigate all this.

And just to be clear, maybe I’m not talking about you— you and I both know how to behave in public, and we’re and are wonderful people to be sitting next to.

I’m mostly talking about all those other people.

And when I say coffee shop, I really mean anywhere public you decide to park yourself and open the laptop. You might be in the library or at a cafe where slightly different rules apply. Each kind of venue is a little different in the expectations of etiquette, so be mindful for these subtle differences but my 17 points still probably apply.

But first, who am I?

I’m a high-end design and research nerd, and a Hawaiian coworking space starter-upper. I’m also a onebag digital nomad/world traveler, and I work in coffee shops more than most people work anywhere. Finally, I’m also a goddamn laptopping maven and I’m the one who’s going to tell you how to behave like a normal human being when you camp with your laptop in public.

Let’s begin.

Who are you? A quick guide from the Barista’s point of view

Different laptopping venues see you (the laptopper) in different lights. Sometimes there’s stuff going on — drama, depression, insanity — with the people working there, but mostly it depends on you. What kind of vibe do you put out there? How do the people working or sharing your laptopping space feel about you? What “group” do you fit into?

Friends and family. This is really what you want to strive for. It’s the best you can do — know people’s names, say hello, ask about their dog. Be friendly and talk, but also know how to spot cues that the talking should be over. Whenever Norm walked into Cheers and all the people behind the bar shouted out “Norm!” he knew he fit into this group. People in this group get the most leeway in their behavior.

Paying customer. This is also an acceptable group to be placed into, and frankly is probably the default. They’re not yelling out your name when you walk in, but you’re also not on the other end of the spectrum either — causing a scene, unpacking and setting up your own monitor, or putting your damn calves up on the table. You’re buying, tipping, keeping to your own space, and in general just minding your own business. You get some leeway in your actions.

Laptop hobo. Do you not pay? Do you not tip? Are you “just in to check your mail” and then stay for 6 hours? Are you using the furniture in ways it was not intended, or as if you were in your own living room? Do you smell? If so, you might be a Laptop Hobo, and this is not a good thing. People are probably polite to you but really they’re keeping an eye on you. You get none of the courtesy or breaks accorded Friends & Family or Paying Customers.

Creepy drifter. If you’re really just there to “stare at the talent,” or “hope someone notices how much goddamn crisis you’re in because of that BITCH” …you fall into the category of Creepy Drifter and should really go somewhere else. Employees, coffee drinking civilians, and laptoppers all dislike Creepy Drifters, and for good reason. They warp the energy and vibe of a space and bend it towards them and their ridiculous behavior. This can be toxic, and is always distracting. Most people are laptopping in this space to get things done in a social-ish setting, not to stare at people, diffuse drama throughout the room, or otherwise disturb the calm. Creepy drifters get no slack, and are always one shake of pumpkin spice away from being bounced out of the venue.

The 17 Points of Etiquette

1. Just because rules aren’t posted doesn’t mean there aren’t any rules. This is a really good thing to keep in mind everywhere you go in life. Some unwritten rules of public inside spaces include:

  • Don’t stand in front of a doorway talking to someone and block ingress/egress
  • Don’t use your fucking outside voice in a coffee shop
  • Don’t vape inside because it’s “just water vapor.” It’s also disgusting, deadly chemicals.
  • Don’t put your bare calves up on tables other people will eat off of ( Seems random, I know. I’ll get to this in a minute ).

“I didn’t see a sign that said don’t do that” is the first resort of a chump. Be aware of the unwritten rules that permeate our society, starting at the coffee shop.

2. No one really owes you anything. This is another good rule to internalize for a better life. Space to camp for a few hours and work with your laptop is not a constitutional right, nor is the coffee shop a public utility. You are not entitled to much of anything, and tragically such space and the tacit okay to camp for a few hours is a privilege that can disappear at any moment, for just about any reason. If you’ve paid to spend time at a full-on co-working space, well that’s different then. You’re a member, and your have privileges and entitlements. That’s some other article; this is about laptopping in public spaces for free.

3. You’re kinda renting a space. In the coffee shop, or really anywhere there’s something for sale, the people who own the space assume you’re going to buy something there. Do so. This is your rent for the space and ( possibly ) a wifi connection. Just because no one makes you pay or comes up to you and charges you, don’t for a moment believe that you’re not supposed to do this. Please make no mistake — even if you’re good friends with the owner or the workers, if you’re laptopping in a place that sells shit and you’re not buying anything… that doesn’t make you clever. It makes you an asshole.

4. It’s still not really an “agreement.” So let’s say you buy something and tip well. Stuff still might happen that could thwart your laptopping plans — power or internet can go out, a tussle could break out in your coffee shop, the water could go out, a volcano could erupt, or for some reason I can’t possibly know the management tells you it’s time to leave. When this happens, you should just go. And possibly help others towards the exit.

5. The place is public not private, not quiet, not a safespace. There will be other people near you, laptopping or just enjoying themselves. They might be talking with their friends, sharing their drama, prattling endlessly about their kids or what aches, and so on. It’s not the library ( unless of course it -is- the library. If so, slightly different assumptions apply ) and people might get loud. As I type this very essay in a coffee shop I see a girl in a skirt reading with both her legs up on the table as if she was in her living room. I shit you not. And whatever. The place is open to the public so lots of distracting stuff might happen. Be like water, and let it just pass through you.

Also by the way, don’t you ever do that — put your fucking calves up on a coffee shop table and just kick back. Jesus.

6. Don’t smell, don’t be obviously/stumblingly high, don’t be clearly off your meds, don’t be contagious, don’t be an asshole. Duh. You’re in public, and you’ve chosen this. You’re not at home, you’re not in private, so do not do stuff you should only do at home in private. No screaming, cutting toenails, spitting, or showing of genitals. Just no.

6a Be a normal, civil human being. Give up space for elderly, disabled, vets in uniforms, breastfeeding moms, or the clearly jacked up. Be quick and not-disgusting in the restroom. Watch other people’s stuff for them if they ask. Clean up your crumbs and garbage. Don’t leave any biomatter around. Ewwww.

7. If there’s a sign that says “no laptops,” or “no camping,” don’t whip out your laptop, camp. This is not a valid place for laptoppers regardless of how much you might want it to be. If the place has Wifi but cuts it off at something like a half and hour, this is a special F-U to the laptopper: check your mail if you must, then please go.

8. Buy something. It’s this simple, and this should really be higher up on this list. If you’re there with your laptop open and the place sells food or drinks, you need to spend. It is never cool to walk into a place, take up space, open your laptop, and start typing if you haven’t bought something in the last hour and a half. Serious offenders are clutches of bored homebodies or high schoolers who park in six different spots outside, come in and take up space while one out of six of them might actually buy something. This isn’t cool; It’s not enough to be part of group where someone buys — if you have your laptop open, you need to buy something. If your friend buys you something, that works too. At least you have a cup in front of you. Ninety minutes later, buy something else. Ninety minutes after that… you get the idea.

8a. Don’t bring outside food. I have trouble processing that this even needs to be said, but here we are. I’ll grant there’s bit of leeway if you’ve bought something here besides The Cheapest Thing on the coffee shop menu, but not much. And if you didn’t buy anything, as we’ve discussed you shouldn’t be on your laptop taking up space. If you laptop, don’t buy anything, and bring your own food, you’re a special kind of douchebag. Stop. Just. Stop.

9. Be space conscious. With your bag, with the rest of your shit, the size of the table, your sound volume, and your body. No man-spreading in ill-fitting shorts, no watching or listening to anything without headphones, no pulling together two tables for your use only, or any other such fuckery. You know how much space this coffee shop has designated for one person; take up just that much space, and don’t despoil it. Return the space to its original state when you’re done. When you moved a bunch of chairs and build your little campfire circle/laptop temple/cushion fort, take it down before you leave. And bus your own fucking plates and dishes.

10. Don’t look at your neighbor’s screen. Also, don’t stare at people; attractive people, ugly people, or anyone. Normal people don’t stare. And speaking of screens, normal people also remember they’re in public — No porn, death, fecal festivities, or anything else crazy-time on your screen. If looking at it would make your own grandma scream “Holy Shitballs!” don’t have it up in a public space.

11. Just fucking chill. Remember this is not your dorm room or your cube at the office. You don’t control the music or the temperature here at the coffee shop. While in public you have to roll with some things on occasion and not whine or throw shade because you don’t like the fact the baristas want to listen to Ke$ha right now. Also, No performing. This is kind of an extension of Rule 11 — during a phone call, a lover’s spat, or whatever… just chill. Be at peace with the truth that even beyond the idea no one cares about your drama, no one wants you to be obvious about it. Devastated by something? Elated by something? Keep it to yourself. Even if you’re here with your friends, this is not Gabby’s living room. And lastly don’t bug others with your phone call. Keep your phone calls short, quiet, never on speaker, and do them somewhere outside if you can’t follow all of rules here.

12. The Kid Rule. If your kid is carrying on and the people around you seem cool with it, let me be the first person to tell you this: they’re not cool with it. A sensitive issue, yes. I don’t have kids so I can see possibly rubbing up against the sensibilities of some parents here who bring their children laptopping. This is not my intent, but please understand — in a coffee shop if a kid runs around screaming, breaking stuff, peeing, or whatever it’s only a little better than if you were doing it yourself. Every single one of them wishes you’d control your kid, and not let them disturb the calm of the place. Even the parents feel this way, because their kid-deafness only extends to their own kids, not yours. They’re not telling you this because they’ve done some mental math and figure it’s all less awful if they just put up with it. But never kid yourself — this is totally what’s going on.

13. Don’t hack the wifi, or circumvent the password policy. You’re not being clever, unlocking some sort of coffee shop achievement — you’re being a disruptive asshole. Also, Don’t abuse the streaming. Don’t torrent, don’t mount any DDoS attacks, don’t download all of Netflix or Wikipedia. Bandwidth is meant to be shared by everyone and unless you’re laptopping in a Google Fiber city, please do your torrenting at home.

14. The baristas are not your tech support. Public wifi in laptopping spots is offered on a you-figure-that-shit-out-yourself basis. None of the peeps behind the counter are inclined or have the time to help you figure out how your particular laptop wrestles with random wireless networks, or fix your VPN issues. Additionally The staff can’t help with shitty wifi in the coffee shop. No one there is responsible for a bad connection. Remember, this is not your neighbor’s house — it’s not cool to ask them to “reboot the router” or to log into some mysterious IP address and follow your directions. Just no.

15. You get exactly one outlet plug. You may multiply, but not with a goddamned power strip; use one of those little blocks if you must. Don’t ask for plug-in privileges if there aren’t obvious outlets. No tripwires; think of the children, and the clueless, and the texters. The cord should be nestled nice and happy under your seat or table.

16. Don’t ask someone to watch your stuff for more than a few minutes. The occasional good samaritan will start to feel extremely put out if you’re gone for more than a couple minutes.

17. Be gone 15 mins before the coffee shop closes. They need to tidy space up.

That’s it.

I know a lot of this could be summed up as just Rule 6a: Be a normal, civil human being. If working as a researcher and designer has taught me anything, I know this: it’s better to over communicate and apologize than to assume everyone knows what to do and how to act.

Am I missing an important rule? Have I got something totally wrong? It’s possible. Let me know down below.

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Peter Simon

Principal UX guy & onebag digital nomad who loves dense problems, dogs, fine scotch, and algebraic semiotics.