DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the etiquette of breaking up?

My ex said many nasty things to me on the phone and briefed me by e-mail. We were together for about 14 months, together almost all the time. I am still blown away with the deceit and how he handled it. He never did give me the respect to face me.

I recently requested by phone if he could write me a letter explaining why he did certain behaviors in the end and send a handkerchief that belongs to my grandmother.

He stinking e-mailed me and danced around everything as if it was my fault, and I still don't have the handkerchief. What to think of a grown man of 50 who behaves like that? I have had a difficult time moving forward. But why does he not own up to his behavior?

GENTLE READER: Fortunately, that is no longer your problem. The compensation for enduring a cruel break-up ought to be the knowledge that you have escaped affiliation with someone capable of such cruelty.

Miss Manners suggests that your impetus for moving forward should be the thought of what your life might have been like if you had been saddled with such a person.

Even among people of good will, there are two schools of thought about how to end a romance -- and neither of them is satisfactory. Many now claim to favor a critique in which the jilter makes a case for why he doesn't want to be with you. The other method is to absolve the other person from fault -- the "It isn't you, it's me" routine.

The problem is that no matter how it is done, being jilted is no fun. About the most one can expect in the way of etiquette is for the jilter steadfastly to ignore the temptation to say too little or too much in an attempt to ignore the other person's feelings or to build a case putting that person in the wrong.

Your friend seems to have committed both types of rudeness. He did not allow you the courtesy of a face-to-face meeting, but he managed to say unpleasant things anyway.

It is no great mystery why people feel hostile toward those that they have wronged. You will probably not get back the handkerchief without a fight. And Miss Manners is stuck with the mystery of what he was doing with your grandmother's handkerchief in the first place.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the proper response when you receive a wedding invitation with a reply-by date that has already past?

I have received two such invitations. I don't know if it was overlooked, lost in the mail or what. I thought it was rude! Am I just overreacting? I don't know what to make of it.

GENTLE READER: The proper response, Miss Manners warns you, is very, very difficult:

You must refrain from speculating about being on the B list, who were only sent invitations after A-list people declined, and attempt to convince yourself that the problem had to do with an accident of the post. That does happen, you know. Miss Manners therefore advises you to accept or decline the invitation just as you would have if it had arrived on time.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I live in a large city, and I am frequently approached by individuals who may or may not be homeless, and are presumably less wealthy than I am.

I work 50 hours a week and make a median hourly wage, with no health or pension benefits, and while I could give a little money to any given individual, to give to each and every individual would require more funds than I would like to spare. (To do so would also seem to penalize those impoverished individuals who are too polite to request money from a stranger.

Typically, I simply answer these individuals with a "no," or ignore them entirely if they begin a more involved monologue. Is this the proper response? If so, is there a proper tone of voice in which to deliver it?

Note that the would-be recipients of my charity are sometimes literally asking if I have any money ("Got any change?"), not whether I will give it to them, to which the more truthful response would be, "That's none of your business," but I like to keep these interactions brief.

GENTLE READER: Would you mind also keeping them civil?

It never fails to amaze Miss Manners that people will tolerate blatant begging (in the form of "gift registries" and instructions on invitations) from friends and relatives who are in more or less the same circumstances as themselves, yet feel indignant about being importuned by the needy.

There could be many reasons for not giving money on the street, even aside from your own circumstances. But there are no excuses for being rude. Never mind the literal questions you are asked -- you need only say, "I'm sorry" and move on.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have a friend whose favorite sports team plays on the opposite side of the country to where she presently lives. As you can imagine. she has few opportunities to follow their progress first hand. She will be moving (some weeks before her birthday) to a new city, relatively near (well, 45 miles) to a location where said team will play a series against the local team around the time of her birthday.

I would like to give her two tickets to one of the games for her birthday, but I am aware that she may not (for a variety of reasons) be able to attend. I would not be offended if she could not use the tickets, nor if she offered them to another who could use them.

Should the gifter acknowledge this when presenting the gift, for example in the card, or should it be assumed that this is the case?

GENTLE READER: Couldn't you save both yourself and your friend a great deal of awkwardness by telling her your idea in advance and asking when might be a convenient time for her to attend one of those games?

Yes, Miss Manners knows that you would like to surprise her. But the surprise of receiving something one would love to use but cannot is not a pleasant one.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I'm a cashier at a local grocery store. This is the first job I've ever had, and I enjoy it a lot. Occasionally, however, when a customer has alcohol in their order and I don't ask to see their ID, they will ask, in a very serious manner, why I didn't.

I usually blush and stammer over "um"s and "ah"s, which isn't the most eloquent answer, I know, but is the only thing my mind can come up with after being caught off-guard. Sometimes, I can awkwardly manage to change the subject by telling them their total, but then they spend the rest of the transaction glaring at me, or they'll actually press their case and repeat their question.

How do I answer without insulting them?

GENTLE READER: What would the insult be -- that they looked grown-up? Miss Manners finds the jokey pretense to youthfulness terribly tedious. Don't these people know that asking to be carded is a sure proof of being over age?

But you still have to deal with them. The kind explanation would be, "You look honest, so I assumed you wouldn't be attempting anything illegal, but you're right, I should have checked."

Or since they have that silly age sensitivity, you might cure them of this habit by asking, "My mistake (now your voice gets louder) -- exactly how old are you?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: At the first family wedding I have been to in years (basically because of cost considerations), I asked my sister (mother of the bride) when the presents were going to be opened and placed for viewing.

I was informed that "we don't do that anymore; the bride and groom open them the next day."

When I was growing up, at all weddings and showers, the gifts were opened and placed for others to see.

Is this new? I realize that this is not an obligation to display the gifts, but I have always thought it was a courtesy, because others might enjoy seeing everything.

GENTLE READER: It is true that etiquette did used to sanction the display of wedding presents, although not, as you seem to have experienced, with the children's birthday-party routine (also used at showers) of opening them in front of the guests. Nor would they have been opening them "the next day," when the couple would be off to enjoy their first sanctioned privacy, not hanging around with nothing better to do.

The presents would be opened as each arrived -- and the letters of thanks written and sent immediately. At the time of the wedding, when the bride's parents were likely to be receiving, and perhaps even holding the wedding at home, they were displayed on tables covered by white damask cloths, with, or, more discreetly, without, the cards of the donors.

Miss Manners does not doubt that it is also true that guests relished inspecting them, but not because they found it heart-warming. You know they must have been checking to see how much was spent, and whether, in comparison, they spent too much or too little on the presents they sent.

As this is not a particularly seemly activity, etiquette was already condemning the practice decades ago. Miss Manners considers that a custom justly killed.

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