Complaint letters used to be seen only by the hapless elected officials, newspaper publishers and corporate complaint departments (the latter renamed "customer service" in a vain attempt to get customers to the point) to whom they were addressed.

Technology has now fixed things so one cannot go a day without seeing a stranger's written complaints, whether appended as comments to posted articles or blogs, delivered as reviews on sellers' websites, or forwarded in round-robin emails.

This outpouring of effort has not, unfortunately, elevated the form. It is time for a gentle reminder on how to complain.

The proper purpose of a complaint letter is not, counterintuitive though this may be, to complain. The purpose is to persuade the recipient to solve the problem. (Proper consumer reviews, though equally misunderstood, Miss Manners leaves for another day.)

The letter that begins "Dear Idiot, you ruined my life" serves only a therapeutic purpose, and a pyrrhic one at that. While there is a growing online audience that applauds vitriol, it does not include the object of the customer's wrath. Everyone with constituents, customers or subscribers has seen enough angry and sarcastic letters to become immune to the usual form.

Therefore, a good complaint letter dispassionately enumerates facts and concludes with one or more solutions that should be acceptable to reasonable parties. Statements about the recipient's mental acuity or other personal attributes do not fall within Miss Manners' definition of "facts." Exaggeration only makes it easy to dismiss the writer as hysterical.

The Industrial Revolution allowed the mass manufacture not just of goods, but also mistakes. If you tell a manufacturer what went wrong, he may well have heard it before -- which will, one hopes, encourage him to find a solution before more cases emerge. When the automobile industry saw such a situation, it found that the second thousand reports were harder to ignore than the first thousand. Even if you are the first to report a problem, the company cannot fix what it does not know about.

As to what constitutes a "solution," Miss Manners hastens to clarify that she is talking about fixing the original problem, not the writer's resulting mental state. Her preferred solutions do not include violence.

Miss Manners realizes that you are so worked up as to deem it impossible to avoid personal attacks on the recipient and a delineation of your own wrecked emotions. But if the consequences of the mistake that gave rise to the complaint are so terrible that an unemotional response is truly impossible, then it may be one of those times where etiquette must defer to legal action.

However, it may be of some comfort to hear that eschewing violence and emotion does not rule out the thoughtful threat -- so long as it is not idle and does not happen too early in the process.

"I'm going to sue you for all you're worth!" has no impact on those who hear it hourly. Try, "In reference to the attached complaint and subsequent follow-up letters, please be advised that if this situation is not rectified within three days, I will be advising the housing authority."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it rude to have a private conversation in earshot of others in a public place without including them?

GENTLE READER: No, presuming that you have no connection, not even a temporary one, to these people. But Miss Manners would hope that you know how foolhardy it is to assume that you have not handed over private information to strangers.

(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: Is it tacky to have a combo themed party? My husband is turning 40, and we just bought our first house together last month. We would like to "kill two birds with one stone" if it's proper etiquette. If it is allowable, which of the two is more important as far as the invitation is concerned?

GENTLE READER: Well, which one will get you more presents?

Forgive Miss Manners' cynicism, but she has unfortunately grown accustomed to this subtext. And she would otherwise not understand why grown-ups feel the need to have a themed party at all -- much less a "combo theme" -- when that is really best left to the preschool set.

You may certainly have a party to celebrate both occasions, but if you are not fishing for presents (and let us assume in good faith that you are not), do not advertise it as such. Simply have a party.

Presumably, your friends will know that this is a new house if they have not visited you in it before -- and can bring presents if they like. And if you like, you may modestly toast your husband's birthday at the party. But please do not solicit gifts for either occasion, let alone both.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the proper response to someone who says, "It's about time!" when told that a family member is expecting a baby?

GENTLE READER: "Why? What time is it?!"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have grown increasingly frustrated with the need to decipher the time of social invitations. There was a party announced with an 8:00 start time. Knowing the host and the guests, I arrived at 9:30, and still I was the first to arrive by a long margin.

Sometimes these parties happen in certain minority communities, and this behavior is excused with some self-effacing joke, claiming, "It's just how we are -- we always show up late." If I am looking forward to the event, I find it very frustrating to sit at home, waiting for the right time to leave so that I'll arrive at the expected lateness.

Is there an acceptable way to ask a host to be frank about the hour they expect guests to arrive? Is there an acceptable way for a host to say that we would like to start the celebration at a particular time, with all guests present if at all possible?

GENTLE READER: You may jokingly ask your hosts, "So what does that really mean?" but Miss Manners would caution you to leave out the minority part. They can say it; you can't. You may be able to extract a prediction of when they will sit down to dinner, and time your arrival accordingly.

As a host, you could emphasize your schedule by saying, for example, "We'll have drinks at 7, and dinner will be served at 7:30." Then, if you are cleaning up and going to bed when your guests arrive, they will have only themselves to blame.

(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: 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.)