DEAR MISS MANNERS: Couples often stop by our urban church to assess its suitability for their weddings. While we welcome all visitors warmly, it is always odd to learn that, with few exceptions, their interest is only in the building, not the congregation, our worship services or our ministries.

It feels as if a stranger has come to the door to see whether your living room would be a nice setting for their family birthday party. It feels rude. The bridal magazines seem to encourage this sort of shopping around. What do you think?

GENTLE READER: That bridal magazines are about shopping, not spirituality, which is the responsibility of the church. So if churches are willing to rent out their premises to those with no interest in them other than as attractive real estate, they should not object to what amounts to free advertising.

You may have missed this, but Miss Manners is saying that she agrees with you that the practice is offensive. However, the way to stop it is for the clergy to insist that only weddings of congregants or those interested in becoming congregants be performed at the church. That this requires sacrificing the rental fee is the unfortunate cost of upholding principles.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was wondering if I might trouble you for a polite response to overly detailed information offered to the question "How are you?" Example: "How are you?" "Much better now that I got lucky last night."

I seem to attract this kind of response to what I thought were general, non-intrusive questions, even from casual acquaintances: "How did you meet your girlfriend?" "Well, we started off having casual sex, but we decided we needed to stop. ..."; "How was your weekend?" "The counselor finally got my mother to admit she'd been abusing me all these years. ..."

While I am grateful to be considered such a good listener and compassionate person to be offered such intimate glimpses into others' lives, I am not always available for such extended explanations. I fear that I would encourage this behavior with a non-response. Is there a kind, gentle way to communicate, "You seem to have mistaken me for someone who is your best friend"?

GENTLE READER: There is a school of thought that classifies such remarks as "cries for help," the psychological equivalent of shouts by people in physical danger, requiring a decent person to jump to the rescue.

Miss Manners does not attend this school. While she agrees that you must respond politely to such remarks, a polite person does not allow others to embarrass themselves as these people seem bent on doing, probably with no embarrassment whatsoever.

This is accomplished by a "don't worry, I wasn't paying attention" reaction. In response to sexual bragging, you could say, "I'm so sorry to hear that"; to family complaints, "I trust your mother is well"; and so on. If the braggart or complainer gives voice to his disappointment, say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I really don't know anything about such things" and ask a safer question, such as whether it looks like rain. (At least Miss Manners hopes it is safer.)

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: While shopping for dining room furniture, my friend and I got into a discussion as to why there are two chairs with arms and the rest without. My friend said those chairs were for the host and hostess.

I find it hard to believe that the host and hostess would want to be more comfortable than their guests. The whole idea sounds a bit selfish to me.

Obviously, there wouldn't be enough room if all the chairs had arms. It just seems very crass that the host and hostess would think they're above everyone else.

GENTLE READER: Your friend is correct that the chairs are for the host and hostess, and you are correct that this goes against our most basic idea of how to treat a guest. Now that you bring it up, Miss Manners is amazed that no one questioned this discrepancy before.

The explanation goes all the way back in the history of Western eating customs to feudalism. This was before the invention of the dining room, and dinner was served in the great hall of a castle where the lord of and his high-ranking guests sat at the so-called "high table," which survives at British universities. Lower-ranking people, whether guests or retainers, sat at tables set below at right angles. Thus the hosts were quite literally above their guests. The often elaborate salt cellar was on the high table, and so the less significant people sat -- guess what? -- below the salt.

More germane to your question is the fact that the very highest-ranking people -- not everyone at the high table, but very likely the host -- sat in armchairs, while the lower-ranking ones sat on stools or benches. Today's dining room customs follow this by providing the two armchairs for the hosts and the armless ones as the equivalent of armless stools or benches.

What we did change is the ranking system, placing guests above hosts. But by now, the tradition of armchairs at the table's ends for the hosts is so engrained that it is not likely to change. Miss Manners is a great believer in not interpreting traditions too literally.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I'm a young adult and recently found out that a childhood friend of mine is pregnant. It was a bit of a shock, since we had grown up together and had at one point been very close. I was at quite a loss for words, and wasn't sure how to respond. She is not an adult yet, but I believe she intends to marry the father of the child, although I'm not certain. So therefore, it's not clear whether or not this is a happy occasion. I was wondering what the proper response would be.

GENTLE READER: The proper response to announcements of all births, marriages and combinations of the two are to treat them as happy occasions. Similarly, you must treat every death as a sad occasion, even if the deceased was a monster and the bereaved will inherit a fortune.

However, Miss Manners gathers that your friend has made no direct announcement of anything, so no response is yet required. Should the lady tell you that she is being pressured to have or not to have the baby, or to enter into a hateful marriage, that will be your cue to commiserate instead of congratulate.

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You wouldn't think that people would get so emotional about shoes. Fetishists excepted, naturally.

And those foolhardy people who keep trying to get Miss Manners to rescind the rule against wearing white shoes between Labor Day and Memorial Day.

Oh, yes, and the ones who install flooring or rugs that they don't want anyone to walk on. Miss Manners is not impressed when they try to out-etiquette her by citing the Japanese custom of removing the shoes before entering a house. Those who claim this are not apt to be Japanese, nor in Japan, nor aware that Japanese etiquette is directed toward making the guest feel that he has honored the house by entering it, rather than that he had better not mess anything up.

Summer brings out a whole new foot crowd, and even more toes. There are also more wrinkled noses on people who don't want to look at those toeses. Toes, Miss Manners meant to say. Apparently it's true that things get slipshod in the summer.

As always when clothing is at issue, the sartorial freedom cry is sounded: Comfort! It's hot out, and feet need all the air they can get. Is that too much to ask?

Sometimes it is too much to ask. Other people's sensibilities may be involved.

Miss Manners is skeptical about all those complaints involving smells and funguses. No doubt such problems do arrive in connection with barefooted-ness and open-air shoes, but she has an idea that these accusations are also made when that is not what is truly troubling people.

In clothing disputes, it is the symbolism that arouses the greatest emotions, especially among people who vehemently deny that there is any such aspect to the matter. Those who defy dress conventions claim to do so only for comfort and self-expression, while those whom they upset condemn them only on the basis of sanitation and aesthetics.

This hardly explains why fashions go in and out of conventional acceptability, and why what is considered attractive and healthy on a beach repulses onlookers elsewhere. Nor does it explain the illogic by which shoes are regarded in terms of formality.

Shoes that are held onto the visible foot only by straps are at both ends of the formality scale. If they have flat soles and leather or plastic straps, they are sandals, only fit to wear with bathing suits, shorts and jeans. If they have stiletto heels (speaking of comfort) and satin straps, they are only fit to wear with ball gowns.

Laced shoes that fully cover the foot are businesslike, unless they are made of cloth, in which case they should be changed when arriving at one's business.

Backless shoes are hardly considered shoes at all if they are called flip-flops. If they are called slides they are fit to go out socially, and if they are called mules they are fit to entertain guests at home.

While Miss Manners accepts all this without expecting it to make sense, she is not heartless. Yes, shoes can make the feet uncomfortably warm in summer. So wear the correct ones and kick them off under the table. Just so you can find them afterward by feel, without having to crawl around on the floor.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was reprimanded by a friend while at a movie theater when I took a couple of pieces of her candy without asking. Who was in the wrong? Should I have asked, or should she have been more forthcoming with the candy?

GENTLE READER: Where were you when your friend stopped by the candy counter? Nice as it is to share, Miss Manners imagines that your friend assumed that since you didn't buy any candy, you didn't want any.

Grabbing what is not offered is culinary larceny. Your only hope is to say, "That looks good; maybe I should go get some." However, if the movie had started, you would have been committing a different etiquette transgression against everyone within hearing range. Then your only recourse is to slip out, if you can do so unobtrusively, or to control yourself.

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