What *would* I do?

A reader writes:

I understand you are writing a book. Are you collecting samples of either atrocious behavior or your influence? If so, may I submit the following?

A friend of mine and I were at a cafeteria-style restaurant (X restaurant in Ytown, to be precise, but perhaps the name should be redacted if you ever speak of this publicly). [Note: I did, obviously, but left this line in as I admired the use of the word "redacted."] We took seats at a table and were chatting, waiting for our order to be ready, when we noticed a man in a nearby booth clipping his fingernails! It was a WWMCD (What would Miss Conduct do?) moment. Speak to the man ourselves? (We decided Miss Conduct would not take this route.) Ask the harried staff to speak to the man. (We thought the staff would have to clean the area where he sat anyway, and they already seemed-- well, pretty harried-- it wasn't as if there were a waiter to tell.) It was an incredibly hot day, and we decided the man looked generally threadbare and probably had ensconced himself for the benefit of the air conditioning. We decided breaches of etiquette were likely to be the least of his problems and opted merely to change seats.

Now, regardless of how well we did in selecting our option, I credit you with giving us a manner in which to frame the question.

Isn't this delightful? For the record, I think they probably did the most compassionate thing, although slipping a note to the harried manager would have also been a good idea. But I'm amused by the framing--mostly because I do it myself! Often, when I'm faced with a dilemma in my own life, I ask myself how I would respond if someone sent it in as a question. Frequently, this small distancing maneuver is enough to help me solve the problem. I wonder if clergy, social workers, and other people in the help-giving professions do the same thing?