Long years toiling in the etiquette field may have made Miss Manners unduly suspicious. When a question concerns the respective obligations of hosts and guests, she has taken to assuming that it was motivated by greed.

And indeed, there is nearly always a financial element, and the rulings that are sought would -- if she lost her mind and morals and granted them -- benefit the person who asked. She constantly hears from hosts who want to entertain without paying their bills, and guests who expect the hosts not only to entertain them without reciprocation, but also to entertain guests of their choosing without question.

When gender enters into the situation, it gets even uglier. Ladies and gentlemen are quick to label each other deadbeats or cheapskates, even as they are pursing romance. If they find it, they may declare a truce in order to turn this attention on their parents, planning a wedding extravaganza for which they expect the folks to pay, regardless of financial ability.

Whoops. There Miss Manners goes again, sounding off, just when she had begun to understand that greed need not be the sole motive in these mix-ups. Reasonable -- even desirable -- innovations in social forms, such as the cooperative party and non-courting, mixed friendships, have left genuine confusion about what it is to be a host or guest.

All right, here are some definitions. Miss Manners doesn't want to be left having to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

A host is someone who offers hospitality, which includes planning, orchestrating and paying the bills. So for all those folks who throw themselves on Miss Manners' mercy, hoping to enlist her sympathy by pleading that they are planning something really special, for themselves, their spouses or their parents, and expecting her to solve the detail that they can't afford to pay their guests' way -- too bad. They are going to have to settle for something they can afford.

It is fine to organize a cooperative party, to which everyone contributes and no one is host, but then everyone gets to chime in about the arrangements. Thus it should not favor one person's wishes (or family ties) over another's. It would only be for someone's birthday among a group of friends in the habit of celebrating one another's birthdays, or for an anniversary as a joint family project.

Harder to distinguish is the common situation where two or more people go out together. One of them has to have suggested it; does that person win the bill?

Miss Manners has been trying to get people to word their proposals more carefully, so as to create a distinction between "I'd like to invite you out to dinner" and "Would you like to meet someplace for dinner?" But it seems excessive to charge sociable people for misstating or mishearing something so small. And the consequences can be large -- finding you are paying for others you didn't invite, or pretending not to be hungry because a non-host chose a restaurant beyond your means.

Guests who are in doubt, or hosts who suspect they are, can say, "Shall we get separate checks?" thus solving the irksome problem of splitting a bill with those who are more given to indulgence than oneself. With any luck, the others will reply, "Don't be silly -- I invited you."

Between ladies and gentlemen, such an offer probably indicates a desire to turn friendship to courtship. But Miss Manners doesn't want to hear any ugly demands that he always pays because he is the man, or she should always pay because she makes more money. What is essential here, as in all host-guest relationships, is not the daily settling of accounts, but long-run reciprocation.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the proper response to someone who says, "I love you" when you do not want to hear it?

I have a sister-in-law who continually says, "I love you." Love requires truth and trust, and she has often lied to me and I do not trust her. I try to avoid personal conversations entirely. She has fallen on hard times (again) and I am helping out by hiring her for odd jobs. This arrangement works well until she is leaving, when she zeroes in for a kiss and says, "I love you."

How can I say something so personal as "I'd rather you didn't say that, and don't kiss me, either," without inviting a personal conversation?

GENTLE READER: The proper response is "Thank you."

Miss Manners knows this answer will disappoint you, because you were hoping for an acceptable way of saying, "Yuck, get away from me."

But think about it. The words "I love you" are always followed by a pause in which the other person is supposed to say, "I love you, too." A merely polite acknowledgement is as devastating as you could wish.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am often invited to parties or receptions held to celebrate the publication of a book. Some of the parties are in private homes, others in restaurants or other public places. Some of the hosts and authors are friends, and, in other cases, I just assume I'm on somebody's list.

When books are available for purchase at these events, is it rude not to buy one? Is it understood that if you attend a book party and drink the wine, you're going to buy a book?

GENTLE READER: No, but it is understood that you are willing to show or pretend interest in the book. If you congratulate the author effusively, throwing in details garnered from a quick glance at the jacket copy, Miss Manners assures you (against her own interests) that the author will assume that you couldn't wait until the event to buy the book.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: On my vacation, I regularly encountered extremely rude behavior from my fellow passengers and could not think of how to react, except to ignore it as much as possible.

I had complete strangers try to snatch a dessert I was bringing to my wife. I was honked at and butted by walkers. Constantly, people seemed obligated to talk at the top of their lungs -- even reading signs passing by the highway.

When directly assaulted, I told them to stop, but most of the time I felt that pointing out their lack of manners would be rude of me also.

Fortunately, I was frequently able to escape and recover and overall enjoy my holiday. I believe that these are inherently nice people, who because of their upbringing or because they are in a strange land are completely unaware of their behavior. But it is this insensitivity that keeps me from going to movie theaters and other crowded venues.

I am considering telling people not to talk so loud in public places, to stop interrupting my dinner with their cell-phone calls, to keep their hands to themselves and not presume on a very slight acquaintance to enter into my conversations. Maybe they know don't know they are being rude or at least upsetting to me. I would like to find someplace between suffering in silence and inappropriate anger.

GENTLE READER: What you need is another place to vacation. Or at least another source of travel companions. Miss Manners is sorry that you fell in with a bad lot, but promises you that policing them will do nothing to enhance either their behavior or your holiday.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am planning on going into business, having become interested in this particular industry through a local proprietor of the same goods and services. He was always friendly and helpful and I enjoyed shopping there.

What is proper for me to do in regards to the relationship with this person? I'm worried he'll feel betrayed after he helped me so often.

GENTLE READER: The proper thing to do is to define the relationship. Miss Manners assures you that if you are the first to tell him of your plans, and you thank him for being your mentor and role model, he will have to consider you more his grateful protege than his competitor.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My life partner and I have been struggling over an inane issue for some time now. Simply put, when a person enters a room occupied by another person for the "first time" (e.g., someone coming home from work), who is technically obligated to greet the other person first? The person entering the room, or the person already in the room?

My life partner believes the responsibility lies squarely on the shoulders of the person entering the room, and will purposely wait and ignore me until I address her before I receive any acknowledgement.

My opinion and logic is that the person who is in the room already occupies or "owns" the space and therefore would politely greet the newcomer to acknowledge the person's presence, welcoming that person into the "owner's" space much like a host or hostess would (or should) make a guest feel welcome. This is especially true if the person in the room is in a conversation with a third person in the room. This would welcome the person not only into the room, but into the conversation as well.

I have had three other men answer this dilemma with the exact same reasoning (with no prompting), and I have had one other woman answer in agreement with my life partner, stating that the person entering the room has "disturbed" that space and must "make peace" in the room.

This has been a frustrating (and stupid) issue for some time.

GENTLE READER: Then Miss Manners considers it high time you squabbled about something more interesting. Life partners should greet each other simultaneously, one calling out, "Honey, I'm home," and the other, "Honey, is that you?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have an interesting situation. My last name is a common first name. People are constantly calling me by my last name in profession situations, be it in e-mail or in person. The thing is, I place both my first and last name when closing an e-mail.

I know people are busy -- but too busy to overlook a person's first name? I know I feel awful when I address a person incorrectly. What would be the proper way to correct a person in both written and oral forms in such a situation?

GENTLE READER: Ah, yes, the Augustus John problem, as Miss Manners calls it, after the English painter.

Whatever reasons parents have for giving their children names that are easily open to misinterpretation, they should at least be aware that they are bequeathing those children a lifetime of explanation. People who don't mean to be rude may nevertheless be inclined to see what they expect, rather than what is actually there.

When you get tired of saying gently, "No, it's Gus; John is my last name," you can pretend you went to prep school with the offenders and reply, "Dear Smith."

: