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Modern Times

Philip Howard on tactful refusals and unwitting theft

Q: I am a short, scruffy, 80-year-old pensioner, and recently have had three proposals of marriage — a welfare worker, a young lady from Ghana and a nurse when I was in hospital. I am pleased to be deemed a good catch, but I do not wish to marry. What is the appropriate response? — J. H. Loveless, Croydon

A: Change your aftershave? Say you are gay? Explain that you have already made your will, and have no intention of changing it? Better, I think, to adopt the language of soppy romantic novels: “Dear girl, you have just paid me the greatest compliment that a woman can pay a man. But . . .”

Q: At the theatre last week, a party of young people sat in the same row. After the interval, they arrived later and later. To the first late arrival I pointed to my watch as I let her pass. I informed the second: “The play started five minutes ago.” My foot accidentally caught the leg of the third late arrival as she pushed past. And the fourth got stuck in the middle of the row, as my legs for some reason had stuck rigid to the ground and were unable to move. Do you think my actions were correct? Or should I have been more gracious and forgiven them for spending the interval in the bar, and leaving their ablutions to the last minute? — Rachel Wilson, Sheffield

A: I can see that your petty reprisals took revenge for your (justifiable) irritation at very bad (selfish) theatrical manners. But. They were young. There are long queues for the ladies’ in our barrack-room theatres. And you (as well as the latecomers) helped to distract your attention from the players. The play’s the thing wherein to catch the manners of the young. I should have let the feckless young pass unreproved, and concentrated on the stage.

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Q: I went to a black-tie buffet supper at an embassy last night. When I got home I was horrified to find that I had come away with one of the ambassador’s smart silk napkins in my dinner-jacket pocket. What should I do? — M. B., Wimbledon

A: Not kleptomania, but easily done, in the hurly-burly of your high living. Phone the ambassador’s secretary. Wash the napkin. Iron it. Return it to the destination indicated by the secretary, with a grovelling apology to the housekeeper.

Q: My wife and I work overseas for most of the year, returning to the UK, where we have a permanent home, for three or four weeks a year. Despite having travelled more than 4,000 miles to the UK, and with limited time available before returning to work overseas, we find ourselves having to travel extensively across Britain to visit friends and relatives, the vast majority of whom would never consider travelling overseas to visit us. This turns our annual leave into a mass pilgrimage as opposed to a period of well-earned rest and recuperation. From our perspective, it would appear a decent compromise for some of our friends and relations to travel to our location after not seeing us for so many months. What is the modern etiquette for a returning traveller with regard to who should be travelling to see whom? — Adrian Robinson, Louth

A: Home is the sailor, home from the sea, and the hunter home from the hill. You are dutiful, daft or masochistic to spend your short annual leave trogging around the UK to call on ungrateful friends and unappreciative relations. When Odysseus got home after 20 years, he put his feet up, at least (according to some accounts) until they became itchy again. I should give an annual party for friends and relations. Invite them all. True friends who want to see you will come. Then sit down and rest, welcome visitors, and, for goodness sake sit still, O wandering ones.

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What should one do, asks E. C., of Bracknell, Berkshire, when fully installed in a friend’s or acquaintance’s toilet, if you come to find there is no toilet paper or tissue of any sort left?

Call quietly for a good friend? Always carry Kleenex? Use the Indian or old Roman system of loo brush and water? Never go out without a copy of The Times? PH

Lorna Carleton, of Southam: “Yell ‘Help’ and giggle.”

Simon Peters, Bath: “Look on the bright side — this is the last time that you won’t check supplies first. Then call out for replenishment, and comfort yourself with the thought that you have provided your friends with an amusing story for years to come.”

Swn y Don, Abersoch, Gwynedd: “Try to bring some humour to your situation. Start singing loudly until you draw someone’s attention. Then, strike a deal. Tell them you’ll stop singing if they will leave a loo roll outside the door . . .”

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J. S., London: “Wash your bum in the sink.”

Peter Gathergood, Norfolk: “Adopt an upbeat, chipper tone of voice and alert your host or hostess to your plight. Keep smiling cheerily.”

Q: We are holding a fourth birthday party for our son. Our guests will reflect the diverse community in which we live. But I am concerned that the adults will not get on. My mother is a snob and my neighbour is a racist. The children will enjoy themselves, but how can I try to make sure that the adults do too? — P. T., London N9

Readers are invited to send responses by August 7. A selection will be printed in a fortnight.

Send letters to Modern Times, Weekend, The Times, 1 Pennington Street, London E98 1TT; fax 020-7782 5125, or e-mail modern.times@thetimes.co.uk (including postal address)

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Philip Howard answers your etiquette questions online at noon on Monday