It would be a damned dirty lie to call the Swiss polite. Their attitude to queuing is downright primitive and if you try to exit a lift, navigate through a supermarket, or get on a tram, you can't, because there's a Swiss guy in your way. If I had to get married, (most likely as part of a tax wheeze or elaborate prank), I wouldn't do it in Switzerland, because there would be Swiss people blocking the aisle, blowing foul cigarette fumes over me as I tried to sidestep them.
But one aspect of politeness is alive and well. No Swiss person will ever, ever eat the last croissant.
Which is great for me, because I have zero shame. I'm this guy:
|Hold the doughnut aloft|
My work often takes me to offices, which is great because people in offices have meetings, and meetings are powered by coffee, croissants, and cookies. I don't drink coffee but the rest is manna from heaven. Free grub!
|The last biscuit: mine|
|The last croissants: mine|