Disparaging tourists is such a popular summer pastime that even tourists who are in the very act of touring like to have a go at it. "This place is overrun with tourists," they will say in disgusted tones. And there are more of them than they think, because they fail to count themselves.

If this amuses them Miss Manners is not one to interfere, provided they do not insult their fellow tourists to their faces. But she has noticed that this disparagement of their own kind suggests a way of thinking that is likely to lead to post-holiday etiquette problems for all who travel.

When the residents of a tourist attraction criticize tourists, it is for such crimes as crowding and littering the area, dressing as if cities were beaches and supporting the local economy. (No, wait. That last one isn't quite it. It is for supporting the local economy by buying souvenirs and snacks instead of patronizing sensible businesses that sell things real people need, such as lawnmowers, dishcloths and stepladders.)

But when tourists criticize one another, it is for not enjoying themselves. This does not mean getting in the way of their critics' enjoying themselves, although there is an element of that. The charge is, uncharitably enough, that other tourists are not enjoying their own vacations.

"Look at them," they will say of one another. "They have no real interest in being here. They don't even know what they're seeing. They don't care. All they want is to be able to brag to their friends at home that they've been here. That's why they're taking pictures all the time and sending all those postcards. It's just to prove that they've been here."

Backpackers and those in hotel suites say this of one another. People visiting a place for the second time say it of people visiting for the first time. And everyone says it of people traveling on tours -- especially the other people who are on their tours.

What worries Miss Manners is that they thus plant in themselves the extraordinary notion that telling people at home about one's trip is a real and desirable possibility -- that it is so much of one that huge numbers of people invest the better part of their disposable time and money in setting up what Miss Manners can tell them will be a social disaster.

Nobody wants to hear about anyone else's trip. The only thing they dread more is looking at the pictures from such trips. Here is the conversation family and friends want to have with the returning tourist:

"Have a good trip?"

"Yes, it was great."

"Good weather?"

"Well, it rained one day, but we were going to museums then anyway."

"OK, then. Good to have you back."

Of course, the tourist who did have a great trip is bursting with things to say and show. For that, it is no use to corner those alleged folks back home who are supposed to be impressed. The only people who genuinely want to listen are those who have been there themselves or are planning to go, and the tradeoff is that they expect equal time to tell of their adventures and impressions.

Tourists should therefore treasure other tourists. They are the only ones who will want to listen to them.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I love red wine, but it always leaves an unsightly stain on my lips and teeth. This makes me hesitant to drink it in public, because whenever I smile I'd reveal a mouthful of purple teeth. Is there a way to drink red wine without turning one's mouth purple?

GENTLE READER: Quick! Somebody run and get the soda water! You could, ah, gargle with it. Well, no. Good thing this isn't the household-hints department.

Not that etiquette will be much help after the fact. Miss Manners can only tell you what it says you can't do. You can't ask for a straw. You can't whip out a mirror and inspect yourself. You shouldn't even try using a knife blade as a mirror (as one Gentle Reader once suggested) because it is not polite to brandish knives around during dinner.

So she suggests that you learn to drink by putting the lower rim of the glass beyond your lower lip and raising your upper lip and teeth out of the way. However, if you cannot manage this without looking as if you are gargling, Miss Manners recommends drinking milk.

:

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.)

:

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.

: