DEAR MISS MANNERS: Please tell me how to respond to people at work who ask me how my weekend was and then walk away. I find this worse than saying nothing.

GENTLE READER: We seem to have a geographical problem here.

Or are you asking what to shout at their backs as they retreat?

Even then, Miss Manners would have trouble understanding the problem. A colleague's "How was your weekend?" is a mere pleasantry, not an invitation to explain that you did the crossword puzzle in ink, washed the dog, looked up an old flame on the Internet, rented some movies and ate too much. So, unless you fell off your balcony, in which case you probably would not be at work on Monday, the answer is, "Great; yours?" This should not take long enough to allow your retreating questioner to get far.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am lucky enough to be blessed with many friends and acquaintances, who often invite myself or my partner and I to social events and outings. The problem is that the amount of invitations often overlap and cascade in such a fashion that I am forced to make decisions from a hat-full of invitations about whom to spend time with for almost every night and weekend-day.

For example, I was recently faced with a conundrum: a family friend and his fiancee were celebrating their engagement at a drinking establishment on a Thursday night. I was made aware of this at short notice, at which time I already had plans to meet with a potential business partner for drinks, to discuss opportunities.

My consternation arose from the fact that I had already rescheduled the business meeting once that week -- a second postponement would surely be deemed a waste of my colleague's time. However, my engaged friends had organized for many of their friends to meet with them and wish them well. Of course, a postponement for them would have been out of the question. What would you suggest in this scenario?

Fortunately for me, providence intervened at the last minute -- the engagement drinks were shifted to earlier in the evening, so I was able to attend that at the beginning and end, with the business drinks as a hiatus in between.

I seem to recall something from my childhood about the first invitation on the timeline taking precedence. Could you suggest what the most polite course of action should be for selecting one invitation and declining others?

Ought I to respect the "first in, best dressed" rule? Or am I at liberty to choose an event based on a personal preference? Is there a rule of thumb in this regard? How many declined invitations or reschedulings will be considered rude by one individual or couple, generally speaking? Also, in this electronic age, how rapidly must one respond to an invitation, especially by e-mail?

GENTLE READER: As you already know the chief answer -- reply to invitations as you receive them, decline what does not interest you, but don't reschedule except for illness or death in the family -- Miss Manners can only urge you to follow it and congratulate you on being so popular. Last-minute drinks in a bar hardly constitutes a major occasion justifying canceling previous plans.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What are the rules of etiquette in the little coffee shops that are usually found in one of the large bookstores? Are they libraries, or are they restaurants?

While huddled over a technical manual at one of these stores, I usually get distracted by the screaming children, chatty customers and incessant cell-phone conversations. Usually, when I do feel disturbed, I try to throw dirty looks at the culprits, which are usually ignored. I am forced to leave my seat and find a quieter place within the store.

Will it be disrespectful of me to ask them to "zip-up"?

What about the area outside the coffee shop, where the books are kept? Are those areas also considered libraries, or are they considered malls where customers can bring in children that haven't been taught to keep quiet? There are specially marked "kids sections," which are cleverly placed far enough from the general seating areas so as not to disturb the adult patrons.

GENTLE READER: If they were libraries, people should be throwing you dirty looks for drinking coffee, and perhaps also for eating.

If they were restaurants, you should expect people to be lively.

If they were malls, you would be arrested for walking out of the bookstore without paying for the books.

These bookstore-cafes are a hybrid, allowing comfortable browsing along with shopping and socializing. No doubt people who can concentrate anywhere get a lot of free reading done, but this is not supposed to cancel the other activities. Should you want to study intensively, Miss Manners imagines that the bookstore might even be willing to sell you the book.

Having disposed of your similes, Miss Manners gets to examine the actual conflicts involved and make up new rules.

Chatting is improper in libraries, no matter how laxly the rule has been treated in recent years. It is, however, proper in both bookstores and cafes. Allowing children to scream freely rather than being hauled off and lectured is not proper any place where innocent people (as opposed to parents) are forced to listen. The same goes for screaming into cellular telephones, although they may be used with a normal tone of voice in stores and informal eating places.

However, telling people to "zip up" is never proper unless they are exposing themselves.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We recently moved into our first home and would like to become acquainted with our neighbors. I find myself sighing over passages in Austen novels, in which neighbors called on new arrivals, making it clear who wanted to be known to whom.

What are the expected social forms these days? Do they vary with the setting? During my years of apartment-living in New York, people scurried away if I said so much as "good morning," so I quickly learned to keep to myself. Now that we are living in a smaller town, our neighbors seem more open to social interaction.

We have introduced ourselves to our neighbors on either side, and have had each over for tea. A friendly couple across the street introduced themselves as "Bob and Mary," leaving me unable to address them properly by invitation, or look up their phone number, etc. Should I simply drop a note into their mailbox addressed to "Bob and Mary"? I don't want to be a pest, but I think their manner of introduction was simply out of habit, rather than out of a disinclination to know us.

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners has encountered some deviously snippy types through Miss Austen, but none who would snub their new neighbors by pretending to be friendly while withholding their surnames. Even if they wanted to hide, you know where they live.

She therefore concludes that Bob and Mary, like your other neighbors, have the intention of being neighborly without the manners that would instruct them how to do it.

You are kind to make up for this lack by calling on them, when they should have called on you. By all means, leave a note for "Bob and Mary," addressed "To our kind neighbors," and enclosing an apology for not using their full names because you did not quite catch them.

:

Not so fast with the schadenfreude, please. Just because people who are infinitely richer than you have been diagnosed with Infectious Greed, that doesn't mean that you can enjoy the pleasant relief of knowing that your lighter case has not been noticed.

The chairman of the Federal Reserve coined the term to describe the state of the business world that has given rise to so much scandal. Miss Manners has simply noticed how apt a description it is of the social climate of the last decade or two.

True, there is a difference between the greed that lands you in the worst seat at congressional hearings (not to mention in the pokey) and the greed that merely gouges friends and relatives. There is undoubtedly a relationship, however, although she cannot say which gave rise to which.

Both forms of greed consider that the financial bottom line trumps the niceties. Both are characterized by smarmy self-congratulation on not being a sucker, which is to say not having allowed sentiment or delicacy to interfere with maximizing profits.

Both spread their infection rapidly: First, people notice that others are getting away with nefarious practices. Then, they conclude that such is the standard way of doing things. Finally, they forget that there was any other way, and cite it as hallowed by custom.

Celebrations, entertaining and even charity have all become corrupted. Gift registries, pay-your-own-way parties and fundraising ambushes have proliferated so much that freely offered hospitality and voluntarily offered presents and contributions seem part of a naave, distant past.

All the same, people who accept the new "traditions" sense that something is wrong. They may not feel justified in the sort of outrage that would put a stop to it, but they are unhappy.

Miss Manners' mail is full of such laments:

"Our clergyperson recently had a baby, and the entire membership of the congregation received e-mail invitations to a baby shower for the happy couple, telling us to bring a dish to share with eight to 10 people and providing four different links to Web-based gift registries. A number of the congregants are unemployed or on fixed incomes. Do you think it is acceptable for a spiritual leader to solicit gifts from the congregation?"

"I bought a card and gift to a graduation party for a fellow classmate, but upon leaving, the party-giver asked me to pay my 'share' for the party. It was 'drinks only,' and I'm not a drinker, but I was charged as if I were. (They split it 'Communist way,' so if you had one drink or five, you paid the same.) Nowhere on the invitation did it say that we had to pay an entrance fee. Was I right to feel a bit miffed at the party-giver, or was I a heel for not offering to help pay in the first place?"

"I have recently been invited to three functions: A birthday party for a 1-year-old, a party for an 80-year-old and a wedding shower. The 1-year-old was 'registered' at a toy store, and the parents had the nerve to ask for donations to her college fund! At the 80-year-old's party, the family asked for donations to the grandchildren's college fund! And at the wedding shower, we were asked to bring food as well as a gift."

"We have gotten an invitation to a greenback shower addressed to Mr. & Mrs. & family. Is it proper to send one gift with all the names on the card?"

"I just received an e-vite (e-mailed invitation) to a birthday celebration from a colleague of mine from work, stating that she is hosting a 'Pamper Party -- to pamper yourself for all of the hard work you do.' Each guest must bring their own nail polish for a professional manicure or pedicure, and either bring a bottle of champagne or a food item to share (and a birthday gift, since she didn't say not to bring one!). If this is not enough, I also have found out that each guest must pay $25 toward each spa service. I am wondering if I am wrong to feel angered and insulted by this invitation. Tell me, would Miss Manners feel pampered by such an invitation?"

The answer to that last question is: Well, no. But neither would she confuse friendship with solicitation and feel that she had an obligation to buy.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Maybe I'm missing something, so please help me. When finger food and/or other types of appetizers are served at a social gathering (say an outdoor reception), what is the proper way to eat them?

I usually take a small napkin (which, more often than not, are in abundant supply) and grab the item. What I see is 99 percent of the guests simply grabbing the item with the hand, one after the other. By chance, they may or may not touch other items, or lick their fingers and grab more, or both. It's disgusting. Is it me, or do I need to relax and enjoy the food?

GENTLE READER: It's you. You missed something.

Take a deep breath, but before you relax, take a look at the term you used to describe these appetizers: finger food. Does this contain a clue about the proper way to eat it?

You may not choose to do so. Miss Manners has no objection to fastidiousness. What she does find objectionable is showing others that you find their unexceptionable manners disgusting and the merest hint of their touch lethal. Your method heavily suggests that, so you may want to bypass the appetizers, especially if you reflect on what human contact may have gone into their preparation.

: