From Emma Barnett
Q. What do I do about the fact that my friends are all scared of the telephone and its primary purpose? I loathe endless texting and yet I keep worrying people by actually calling them. How do I stop people answering the phone with a breathless: ‘What’s happened? Are you OK? Has someone died?’
As someone who effectively talks for a living, is there a way back?
A. Most juniors do tend to react with alarm to a non-prepositioned phone call. Dispel fear with a text, festooned with laughing face emojis, asking: ‘Can you speak?’ Then dial the number.
From Emily Maitlis
Q. Several of our dear friends have started gifting us their home-harvested olive oil in recent months, in beautifully crafted glassware that sports a label of their various sun-kissed properties and/or fertile groves. I am now very nervous of social interactions in case we serve the wrong olive oil to the wrong guest when they appear at our table. Is it bad form to give Anna’s Croatian Extra Virgin to Kavita with her Granja in Grenada? And should Michaela’s Bosnian Elixir take priority over Natalie’s more conventional Provençal Huile d’Olive on the heritage tomato starter? I’m beginning to think a return to margarine might be safer. Please advise.
A. Laugh in a light-hearted manner as you announce a palate-testing challenge while guests are sitting down. Hand out pens and paper and invite them to guess the provenance of the oil you’ve used. By inventing a game around it, you will sidestep issues of favouritism.
From Bernard Cornwell
Q. Later this year a young man of our family will marry a lovely girl from Alabama. We all look forward to it. Unfortunately, the groom has declared that he will not invite his first cousin and wife to the ceremony. The cousin and his wife are a deeply unattractive couple. They are ill-mannered, loud and appear to lack any social graces. Some of the family insist they should be invited; others dread the effect they will have on the bride’s family, who are elegant, civilised and charming. I am firmly with the groom, but my wife, the matriarch of the family, is torn. She sympathises with the banned couple, but is aware of their ability to sour an otherwise happy day. What should we do?
A. Throw cash at this problem. Two out-of-work, but mesmerisingly attractive, actors should be hired to attend the wedding. Their brief is to love-bomb the couple and pretend to be fascinated by them. The couple will feel no need to circulate if they are finding intense gratification by talking about themselves to a captive audience, who appear to be unable to get enough of them. You might even issue a bespoke invitation announcing that their carriage is at an earlier time than those for the other guests. The actors can encourage them to leave at that earlier time by saying they are leaving themselves.
From Elizabeth Day
Q. I have a beloved ginger cat. He favours a particular chair and moults extensively on it. As it’s upholstered in a mustard yellow, it does not show up his discarded fur. Often, I’ve welcomed a guest and they have made a beeline for the cat chair and sat on it before I can alert them of the potential damage to their clothes. On one occasion, I had the food writer Delia Smith in my house to record an episode of my podcast. She was absolutely charming and dressed entirely in black. She sat on the chair almost as soon as she walked through the front door and I’ve never forgiven myself for letting it happen. Should I warn guests of the potential for sartorial contamination and, if they’ve already sat down, should I tell them at that point or would it be ruder to disturb them?
A. There is an opportunity within this dilemma for you to grant your visitors a bonus treat on top of the pleasure of your much-craved company. Don’t mention the moulting risks as they sit down but as they get up to go, come towards them wielding a handheld pet-hair-removing tool of the sort which vibrates mildly as it efficiently sucks pet hair off clothing. Run the tool over their body until the fur has all been sucked up. Have no qualms about doing this – most people adore the sensation of being caressed through clothing (just think of how enjoyable it is to be frisked at airports). Your guests will love the sensory intimacy of being ‘groomed’ and, in anticipation of repeating the experience, most will opt to make beelines for the same chair on their next visit.
From Nigel Planer
Q. I am a poet and so I often have to wear corduroy, even in combinations, for instance, the needle-cord trouser with a jumbo-cord jacket. This is perfectly acceptable at poetry readings and such. However, is it acceptable for a man of my age (72) to wear corduroy combinations in civilian life, or is a corduroy combo as much of a no-no as double denim?
A. Corduroy combo is an aesthetic no-no. Incidentally, horizontal corduroy is currently supplied by Cordings and it would be even worse if vertical was combined with horizontal. A septuagenarian poet can wear what he likes, but must bear in mind that certain choices may suggest the possibility of early-stage dementia.
From Rory Stewart
Q. Is it OK to invite people to see my 50ft climbing rose when it’s in bloom – or is that showing off?
A. There’s no call for modesty when there has been a successful collaboration with nature. However, if you feel the need to self-deprecate you can always point to a real or imaginary area of black spot on one of the leaves.
From (name withheld)
Q. I’m at my wits end. With Christmas coming up I’ve decided to invite the whole family round for Christmas dinner but I’m really struggling to budget for the food. I’d originally budgeted at 30p per meal and with ten coming, including myself, that works out at £3, although Diane Abbott disputes this figure. Here lies the problem. I’ve not budgeted for the Christmas pudding so do I tell my family to bring their own or should I just bite the bullet and buy one? As Chief Whip of Reform UK I would like to remain anonymous if this letter is published.
A. Sponging is the only way you could achieve this Christmas miracle. See if a Reform fan neighbour might extend an invitation to your whole house party. Then gift this host with a £3 box of Poundland chocolates.
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