DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I have a house in Maine. Our visitors from out of town always look forward to being served lobster at our table.

I don't like lobster. I'm happy to serve it to our guests and my husband. If I offer an alternative, I will probably be the only one eating that.

What is the polite alternative to choking my way through a lobster at my own table?

GENTLE READER: You have been caught by what Miss Manners calls the Local Delicacy Trap, shared by Bostonians who hate clam chowder, Napa Valley natives who have other things to do than to taste wine, and Chicagoans who have had to consume a lifetime and a half of deep-dish pizza.

Not only does everyone coming to town expect it, but they lack any sympathy for you, who are glutted, whether on lobster or champagne or baked beans.

Misdirection ("Oh, that's not the real local delicacy! The real local delicacy is steamed mussels!") seldom satisfies. Portion control ("This caviar is particularly special. And for the main course we have ...") makes you look stingy.

Best to swallow the insult to your own tastes, which can be done without swallowing the lobster. Who can complain about a dinner of lobster and an alternative, in which everyone gets to eat what he or she enjoys most?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: An employee my office just hired was nice enough to start with, but very quickly I began to notice that she was oversharing personal information about herself and her family.

I would just brush it off and change the subject, but then she began to include me in her problems. If she complained about her weight, she'd say I must feel the same way about myself. If she complained about her age, she'd say I must feel the same way, too.

If she wants to degrade herself, that's her problem, but I do not want to be included. I've tried being cordial and keeping my distance, but today I found out that she's complaining to others in the office that I'm not friendly to her. They tell me she's been asking them what my problem is!

Help! I wouldn't want my problems blabbed all over the workplace, but I don't want her complaining about me, either. My life isn't perfect, but I don't put myself down. How can I get her to stop?

GENTLE READER: The way to prevent her from telling others about your problems is, as you correctly surmised, not to tell them to her. Perhaps looking sympathetic and saying, "No, not really," when she turns to you, would help. This unsatisfactory but polite response should solve the problem of her oversharing.

That leaves only one problem for Miss Manners to solve: how to get her to stop complaining about you. The next time someone passes on one of her complaints, explain that she seems nice, but you hardly know her and don't feel that you can deal adequately with her neediness.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Universal Uclick, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A fraternity formal dance that I attended ended with me cabbing home, alone, and without warning.

After a young man asked me to the dance, I was so looking forward to having a fun time with him and my three best friends, who were also attending with dates. At the dance, my date became so drunk that he retreated to the men's bathroom with my friend's date.

After he left to recover in the bathroom, I was still hoping to salvage part of the night with my three best friends. However, all they did was complain about the missing young man who was attending to my date in the bathroom. It was spoiling the night and making me even more uncomfortable, so I proceeded to just stand outside the men's bathroom and demand that my date call a cab back to his apartment where he could be properly watched over by his friends.

After the missing young man returned to my friends, the crew, instead of showing compassion by including me in the conversation, ignored me and abruptly walked off to dance without me, leaving me sitting at our dinner table alone. I figured that my presence was unimportant to them, and called a cab for myself.

They didn't realize I was gone for a half hour, and when we spoke briefly the next morning, they casually said that they would have accompanied me home had they known I was leaving.

Even though my date had the good sense to apologize profusely and take me on another date to make up for the lost time, my "best friends" didn't have the courtesy to apologize for excluding me.

Was I expecting too much? Was I in the wrong to assume that people have a responsibility to include and be compassionate toward an abandoned date? Was I wrong to leave without warning? Miss Manners, I was so hurt by their actions that I have been giving them the cold shoulder ever since. Please tell me if I was wrong in any way.

GENTLE READER: That you easily forgave the person who got drunk and abandoned you, but hold a grudge against those who did not drop what was left of their evening's enjoyment to attend to you, worries Miss Manners.

It smacks of the common attitude that females are responsible for poor behavior on the part of males -- for example, when a lady forgives her husband for breaking his marriage vows while vilifying his partner, who was under no such obligation to her.

Your friends did recognize that your date was in possible danger from his drunkenness and took care of him. You were upset, but capable of taking care of yourself, as in fact you did.

Miss Manners agrees that it would have been nice of them to express sympathy. But she hardly thinks that they were obligated to give up their evening to see you home, when you were able to do that on your own. Please save your indignation for the person who actually did ruin your date.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it acceptable to go to someone's house before 10 a.m. and knock on that person's door?

GENTLE READER: Yes, if you have a package, a warrant or an invitation.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Universal Uclick, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I'm in a same-sex marriage with a man who is half my age. I consider myself very lucky and -- for whatever reasons -- our marriage works well. We've been happily together for five years and counting.

I've found that others, particularly in the service industry, often ask if we are father and son or other familial connection. I usually simply respond "no" to the question, but if they persist, I admit to taking a fair amount of joy in their discomfort as their awkward guesses continue until I tell them that we're a married couple.

My husband tolerates my foible, usually with a smile, but friends say that I'm being rude and should simply tell them from the start. I feel that, while it may be uncomfortable, it certainly isn't rude or mean, and that I have no obligation to volunteer information.

Perhaps I don't have the right to the joy of their discomfort, but I consider it a small price to pay. Am I indeed being rude?

GENTLE READER: Do you believe that encouraging strangers to discuss your relationship status helps to open their naive or sheltered minds? Isn't it, rather, laying a trap for them to continue the rudeness of making more assumptions?

Miss Manners would understand your correcting people whom you would be likely to encounter again. But whether you simply say no, or explain that you are married, she hopes that you will not allow the foolish speculations of service people to upset you.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When your mother is standing with the freezer door open and food in her arms about to fall out, what should her son do who is asking for her to move to get into the refrigerator?

GENTLE READER: Go back in time and offer to help instead.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I have six children with varying degrees of red in their hair. Our youngest son was born with beautiful "carrot top" red hair and an incredibly shy personality.

So often strangers will compliment him on his red hair and then have the nerve to ask my husband and me where he "got it."

I can't imagine that they really care where the red hair originated. I don't feel obligated to explain, as it embarrasses our son and I find it very rude. How would you suggest that I respond?

GENTLE READER: Unfortunately, trying to curb the enthusiasm of strangers over adorable copper-headed children is a fruitless endeavor.

Why not have fun with it instead (and perhaps get your son in on the act and help ease his shyness) by coming up with some silly responses? "My mother was a pink flamingo" and "I sat under a rusty sink" were some of the cheeky retorts Miss Manners enjoyed in her youth.

Your children are in for a lifetime of (generally well-meant) comments on their hair. They might as well learn to manage them with good humor now.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Universal Uclick, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)