DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am having a dinner party where I am going to serve a fish casserole of crab, shrimp and scallops and a side dish of steamed fresh asparagus with lemon butter sauce. Do I set the place with fish forks and knives, dinner forks and knives or both?

GENTLE READER: Although etiquette has a reputation for making mealtime difficult, this is false, if not slanderous. Miss Manners has never been able to understand how people can think such mean thoughts about something that is only trying to help.

The rule is to provide only the table implements that are necessary to get the food into the mouth without causing undo stress on the tablecloth, rug or appetites of other diners. Everything you mention on this menu can be eaten with the fish knife and fork, so there is no need to provide a meat knife and fork. The asparagus may even be properly eaten with the fingers, although if you happen to have those lovely little silver asparagus tongs, you will want to provide them.

Oh, that must be how etiquette got its reputation.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am increasingly encountering a problem at social events that I hope you can help me with. It concerns the prevalence in gay social circles of kissing other gay men during greetings and goodbyes.

As a gay man who restricts his kissing to boyfriends (my own) and close family members only, I frequently find myself trying to dodge the proffered lips of fellow party guests. I further note that the kissers generally do not extend this behavior to straight men or to women of any sexual orientation. It is an "honor" reserved almost exclusively for other gay men.

Up to now I have successfully employed your excellent advice for anyone attempting a kiss-dodging: a pre-emptive handshake, friendly smile and cheerful hello or goodbye. Unfortunately, I now sometimes find myself foundering in the post-handshake aftermath.

A small minority of kissers are easy to deal with: They make some remark implying that I must be uncomfortable with my sexuality, which gets them a raised eyebrow, a firm goodbye and an entry onto my "Do Not Invite" mental list. The real problem is the folks who are genuinely trying to be friendly and who are hurt by my desire to impose some sort of limit on public displays of affection (especially ones from which heterosexual men and all women are excluded). These guys won't say anything, but it is apparent that they are a little taken aback by my "unconventional" departure.

Can you suggest a comment suitable for the awkward post-handshake pause that lets the kisser know that: a) he should not take this personally (kiss-bearing women also get pre-emptive handshakes unless they are blood relatives); b) refusing the kiss is not a sign of dislike; and, c) I intend to stand by my nonkissing standards no matter how sad a look I get. I am hoping for a pithy phrase that will convey these sentiments more gracefully than this rather lengthy note.

GENTLE READER: Sorry, no pithy. You will not accomplish your goal of disarming possible feelings of rejection by clever quips at these people's expense.

The phrase you need is, "I am delighted to see you," and Miss Manners' instructions are to boom it out heartily at the first sign of a smoochy approach. This establishes you in advance as welcoming. More importantly, a moving target is harder to hit.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: My next-door neighbors have four kids, ages 4 to 10. These kids have been told by their parents that if one kid is invited to a function, they are all invited. Therefore, when my son invites his 10-year-old counterpart over to swim, all four kids may show up.

Do you find this one-is-all rule acceptable? It presents obvious problems, such as baby-sitting the 4-year-old while she is in the water. Any advice for handling the situation without banning them all from the pool? I don't want to be rude to the kids that were not invited by stopping them short of the water and sending them back home.

GENTLE READER: Someone had better stop these children short of fratricide when they attempt to go on one another's dates and wedding trips.

Whether the parents are motivated by the touching-but-futile desire to make the outside world treat their children alike or the more immediate one of having a quiet house to themselves, this is a disastrous (and socially illicit) policy. It is not the children who should be embarrassed, Miss Manners agrees, but the parents who must be disabused. She suggests a double-barreled warning with the invitation, citing safety as well as social reasons:

"We'll be delighted to have all of you another time, but Zachery wants to have some time with Kipp, without the smaller children around. I'll keep an eye on them, of course, but I can't let the others into the pool unless there are more adults around."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I usually remember the order of introductions, but not always. "X is introduced to Y" is spoken how? In the case of ladies and gentlemen, is it "Ginger, I'd like for you to meet my good friend Fred"?

Would that be introducing Fred ("I'd like you to meet") to Ginger, or Ginger (whose name is revealed first) to Fred? I think I have it right, but I stammer occasionally on this one.

GENTLE READER: You wouldn't get so rattled if Ginger and Fred could only stand still for a minute instead of swinging off into the distance while you are giving them a proper introduction.

If you think of it as presenting one to the other, you will remember that the person whom you are addressing, Ginger, is the one to whom the other is presented. "May I present" is, in any case, a more graceful construction than "like for you to meet." If you find that cumbersome, you can say simply, "Ginger, this is..."

Two extra points that Miss Manners throws in for free:

1. If neither party is related to you, do not refer to one of them as your friend, because it implies that the other one isn't.

2. Please, please, use their last names. Suppose Fred calls Ginger the next day to ask her to be his dance partner, but reaches the other Ginger who was at the party -- the one who is perfectly nice but has two left feet?

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Who's in charge of manners at the beach house?

Well, come in and look around. Do you see any likely candidates? Do you see any signs of (voices take on decidedly sarcastic tone) et-i-quette?

It's summertime, and people only want to relax, party and have fun.

Miss Manners has nothing against summer, relaxation, parties or fun, although she does regard beaches as exhibiting a deplorable lack of natural shade. She goes so far as to recognize the value of time off from the formal etiquette of everyday life -- not that she has seen enough of that being practiced to warrant its needing a vacation.

But she grants no vacations from etiquette itself. That is because vacations, like other human activities, are unbearable without etiquette.

From their reports, she has a vivid idea of what people do in the typical group-house at the beach (besides unfailingly misjudging their personal capacity for storing beer longer than a few minutes).

They leave hair lying about in the sink and shower, and strangers lying about on the sofa and floors.

They appropriate food that isn't theirs and abandon dirty dishes that are.

They make so much noise that nobody gets any sleep, although on different shifts: some of them making it before dawn to disturb those who sleep at night, and others making it after dawn to disturb those who sleep during the day.

They don't show up or leave when they are supposed to, and they bring people who aren't supposed to be there at all and don't always leave with them.

They attract robbers by omitting to lock the door, and they attract police by acts of commission.

They run up outrageous bills that they expect everyone to share in paying, and they duck their share of bills everyone is expected to pay.

And naturally, they want to sign up for next year. They are getting exactly what they want: an etiquette-free vacation.

This brings Miss Manners back to her original point. Beach houses need residents in charge of setting and enforcing etiquette rules, as do year-round group houses, whether they are occupied by roommates or families or any other combination of people with varying habits and tastes.

Miss Manners declines to do the job for them, and not only because she, too, wants some time off now and then. It is because the rules can be whatever the adult residents agree upon, provided they do not run foul of the legitimate claims of the landlord, the neighbors and the law. (See? She's not entirely opposed to freedom.)

In the case of summer sharing, it may not be possible to gather all those who would be affected by the rules. It falls to those who sign the lease, with visitors left the choice of agreeing to comply at the risk of expulsion, or making other rooming arrangements. The resident etiquette enforcers then have the job of judging transgressions and deciding whether to enforce the punishment, settle for a warning, or forget the entire thing and keep a list of those who should not be allowed to come back.

If they need Miss Manners' help, they can find her out in the hammock, dozing pleasantly. After all, it's summer relaxation time.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: How should I respond to someone who tells me I have too much time on my hands? It doesn't happen that often, but when it does, it makes me see red.

The comment is usually made when it is obvious I have taken the time to make a special gift for someone I care about. Like everyone else in this world, I am struggling to keep up with life, and the remark insinuates that I sit on my hands all day.

I'm sure it bothers me because I resent that there is NEVER enough time to do everything. But I would love to come up with something to say in response to this insulting remark.

GENTLE READER: "Not really -- I made the time, because I thought it would please you."

A decent person who stupidly used this phrase (which characterizes people who are making extra trouble, not taking extra trouble) will then apologize and deliver a proper expression of thanks. Only if someone persists, instead, in chastising you instead of thanking you, does Miss Manners give you permission to add, "Now that you mention it, I suppose I did waste my time."

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