DEAR MISS MANNERS: This might ruin your day, but here are some puzzling greetings (or non-greetings) that my friends have received:

My friend’s cousin messaged her half-dozen least favorite cousins on Facebook, telling them that they would not be invited to her wedding, apologizing, hoping they would not be hurt -- and directing them to her gift registry. My dear friend was baffled, and confessed that she would never have known that she wasn’t invited had it not been for the social media message.

Another friend was accosted by an acquaintance telling her not to expect a Christmas card because she had only purchased 25 and needed to send them to other people. When my friend replied that the non-greeter needn’t worry, she would just refrain from sending a Christmas present, the non-greeter begged her to wait and promised she would find a card (somehow) and send it. My friend kindly refrained from asking what number she was, if she didn’t make the cut of 25.

GENTLE READER: Yes, it ruined Miss Manners’ day.

Sadly, she was not unaware of the egotism that characterizes these examples -- the urge to tell people they are not in favor enough to receive invitations or presents. But she finds particularly appalling the notion that there is some sort of social obligation to announce “nyah nyah” to the excluded.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: The issue of workplace kettle refilling is a contentious one at my office. Some believe that refilling and boiling is the courteous thing to do; others argue that merely refilling is necessary, as boiling without immediate use is a waste of resources; and still others forgo refilling altogether because they prefer freshly once-boiled water and would dump out the kettle contents anyway.

What would you suggest is the proper “kettiquette” to follow?

GENTLE READER: Do you folks have any work to do? In that case, Miss Manners would suggest ending this admittedly fascinating debate by investing in a kettle that stays plugged in, offering unused hot water to everyone, and getting back to work.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have received an invitation to a bridal shower honoring the future daughter-in-law of a close friend. The invitation includes the address where the event will be held, but not only are there no instructions on how to RSVP, but also the hostess is not named. There is a return address on the envelope, but again, no name.

I suppose the hostess felt there was no point in including this information because she supposes no one would respond. However, I feel awkward showing up at a stranger’s home this way.

I assume that to be correct I ought to reply to the return address? If I do, however, the hostess may feel that I am the strange one.

GENTLE READER: It is possible, as you gather, that whoever is giving this party simply does not know how to write an invitation. But Miss Manners finds equally disturbing the presumption that it is futile to expect responses. She is delighted that you, at least, intend to do the right thing -- as soon as you find out to whom you owe your response, from your close friend.

(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, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: At the end of a boozy company party at a fancy hotel, my wife and I found ourselves tending a co-worker who had overdosed on martinis. While my wife went to summon a janitor, another co-worker asked her (in the politest terms a drunk can muster) to spend the night with him.

Although I was in earshot, I pretended to ignore it. My wife is upset that I didn’t “defend her honor” by punching him out. What do the rules of manners dictate?

GENTLE READER: Well, not adding violence to an already volatile mix. And for many reasons, it is an especially bad idea to hit a drunk.

However, Miss Manners might have forgiven your wife if she had delivered a smart slap when the indecent proposition was made (however politely). That is the traditional response of ladies to cads.

What you might have done was to take hold of the offender to steer him away from your wife, and say insistently, “I think we’d better get you home. You can apologize to Miranda when you feel better.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Over the last few years, a new form of fundraising, coined “crowdfunding,” has allowed people to raise funds via the internet for things such as startup businesses, or as charity for families who have suffered devastating illness or loss. But this reader has noticed an increase in crowdfunding pleas on social media outlets for money for things such as summer study-abroad trips, dance lessons, and even college tuition.

Is this an appropriate use of these fundraising websites? Should it not be the responsibility of the participant and their families to fund these experiences themselves?

It seems most of the people asking for funding are very capable of earning extra income through a part-time job, or a small business or scholarships -- and not by asking for handouts from family, friends and strangers.

GENTLE READER: Everyone is free to beg, Miss Manners supposes, and few solvent people seem to consider this beneath their dignity.

What disturbs Miss Manners is that crowdfunding depends on social embarrassment to work. She cannot imagine that many people want to spend their philanthropic resources providing luxuries to others, but when asked, they seem to feel they have to.

No, they don’t. Unless they are confronted in person -- in which case they should say, “Sorry, but I have other charities I support” -- they needn’t respond at all, any more than they would to an unrelated solicitation.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was at a buffet where mashed potatoes were served. The potatoes were stuck to the serving spoon, and would not come off. I just put the spoon back down, without taking any potatoes.

Was that all right to do? What is the proper etiquette for this situation?

GENTLE READER: At a buffet table, it is fortunately not necessary to take everything that is offered. Miss Manners would think you should take advantage of that to spare yourself having to eat gummy potatoes.

(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, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am very good friends with a couple that I absolutely adore. They both work in public safety and make a LOT of money doing what they do -- so much so, that they travel frequently (four to five times per year).

Their trips aren’t short jaunts to local haunts, but rather all-inclusive, weeks-long trips to faraway foreign lands, and each trip is documented online from the moment they make the reservations until the minute they return (“So exhausted! So glad to be home! So blessed!”).

With the advent of social media, it’s become second nature for people to share everything they do online, but when is enough enough? How do I let them know that I’m happy for their financial success and good fortune, but tired of their constant bragging?

GENTLE READER: Cease following them on social media.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I recently learned (via social media, of course) that a classmate I’d been to school with from kindergarten through senior year passed away, far too young.

We were not intimate friends, and I hadn’t seen her in years, but I remember her vividly and happily, and was sad to hear of her passing. I sent a sympathy card to her mother, essentially saying the above, and mentioning one specific happy memory I had.

Her mother responded with a kind note, surprised to hear from me, but thanking me for expressing my sympathies.

Should I respond to her? It seems awkward not to respond, but is this a conversation that might be considered “closed”?

That the exchange was conducted by postal mail gives me a bit of time to figure out the correct response. Had I been closer to my classmate, it would be an easier question, but she was really just a very nice person I spent all of my childhood and adolescence with, and whose death saddened me.

GENTLE READER: Your schoolmate’s mother’s thanking you was gracious, whether or not she also meant to end the conversation, but it does not necessitate any further communication. She was simply responding in kind. You may, with Miss Manners’ blessing, consider the interaction closed.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: There’s a man in my water aerobics class who always has dried nasal secretions hanging from one or both nostrils. He has lived an interesting life and I enjoy speaking with him, but I can’t stand looking at his face.

If he had a handkerchief or washcloth and wiped his nose once in a while the problem would be solved. Is there any way that I can handle this that is both polite and kind?

GENTLE READER: “Oh dear, these pools are so drying. Let us both go change and clean up before we continue our conversation.”

(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, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)