DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the most appropriate way to grovel? I once stood up a former co-worker for lunch by complete accident -- the first, and hopefully only, time I have ever done so. I called and left a mortified message, and sent a similarly remorseful email. I promised if he would give me another chance, lunch would be my treat, but frankly, this seems insufficient. Should I send him an “apology bouquet”? A bottle of wine? I just feel terrible!

GENTLE READER: Groveling in such a case is entirely appropriate, but you have mastered that. The question is, when to stop groveling?

Miss Manners feels that three apologies are sufficient for your infraction. The first should be verbal -- preferably in-person -- for which we will count your call and voicemail. The second is a handwritten letter, for which your email can be a partial substitute. Rather than seek out an opportunity to make the third apology, await actual contact. After that, you will have done your duty, and can revert to a neutral (not aggrieved) tone in further dealings.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We recently attended the wedding of the daughter of a friend of ours. They had an open bar while the wedding party took pictures after the ceremony, and a buffet dinner following. We were seated in a crowded balcony area, and could not see the majority of the people who were seated on the main floor.

My husband and I knew very few people other than the parents of the bride and the bride herself. We spoke a couple of times to them. After three hours, we discreetly left.

Later, the mother of the bride texted me to say she missed saying goodbye to me. She mentioned that she had not seen me on the dance floor. I responded that I did not have my dancing shoes on, but I think she knew we left shortly after dinner.

As they spent a lot of money on the reception, including a party afterwards, should we have declined the invitation, knowing that we are wallflowers and would not stay all night? Or was attending the wedding and the dinner for three hours enough?

GENTLE READER: Three hours is a decent showing, for which you cannot be justly criticized. But you apparently neglected to say goodbye to your hosts when you left. This was a breach of etiquette that carried its own punishment: It left you open to your hostess’s subsequent (and tactless) criticism.

Had you sought out your hostess and thanked her before leaving, Miss Manner assures you it would have been harder for her to object to your departure. And even if she had, it would have been easy to deflect: “Oh, thank you so much. We loved the ceremony. The dinner was really wonderful. We’re so happy for your daughter and Everett. But it’s our bedtime 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, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My cellular phone sometimes drops calls, and I am suddenly disconnected from the person I was speaking to. If this occurs in the middle of a conversation, I normally call the person back, explain what happened with an apology, and resume the conversation.

I am wondering what to do if the call is disconnected right at the end of a conversation, when goodbyes are either about to be said or are in the process. It seems a little silly to call back to say, “Sorry, the phone got disconnected. So anyway, goodbye!”

I don’t want to risk the other person thinking I rudely hung up, though, by not explaining what happened.

GENTLE READER: Cellular telephones are one of many modern devices constructed to make us feel silly, so do not let that stop you from calling back to conclude the conversation.

Miss Manners realizes that this will be condemned by those who most value efficiency, although she suspects that even they do not appreciate being hung up on. If you are already busy with the next call, a text will suffice: “I think my phone decided we were done before we were. It was lovely to speak with you. Talk to you soon.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I’m married, childless and unemployed, and sometimes face the question: “What do you DO all day?”

I can usually tell when it’s just a conversation starter with new acquaintances, and find those conversations pleasant enough. However, sometimes the question comes from friends and relatives, with an edge to the tone, and the implication that I must have very little to do.

The truth is, running a house, organizing a social life and being supportive of my husband’s career take time and work. However, if I say I’m busy, people usually reply that no one is busy who doesn’t have kids.

Although I’m outwardly polite, inwardly I find these conversations unpleasant. Could you tell me how I might handle these inquiries? I’m searching for a response that is polite, rather than sarcastic, but that doesn’t go along with the idea that I must generally account for my time to others.

GENTLE READER: You are not searching for a response that is polite, Miss Manners suggests, but one that is not impolite. Your friends and relatives will understand the distinction when you answer their intrusive questions and rude remarks with a cheerful, “Well, I don’t pry into others’ schedules, so that saves time,” before you change the subject.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When someone doesn’t respond to class reunion queries (they may not have been popular), how do you let them know that you would still like to be in touch? And that high school attitudes are something everyone goes through, and have more than likely changed?

GENTLE READER: There is a certain logic in reopening an old wound (by reminding your classmate how unpopular he was) to ensure he will be in need of the consolation you wish to offer. But Miss Manners counsels against it. If you would really like to reconnect, issue an invitation. And since it has been a long time, it is also best to defer such questions as, “Are you as roly-poly as ever?”

(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 live in a city that uses large trash bins, which we wheel out on certain days for pickup. Last week, as the trash collectors drove by, I realized I had forgotten to take my bin out. I quickly wheeled my bin across the street, as the truck does that side later.

A few minutes later, the neighbor whose house I had put my bin in front of (on the city street, not on her property) knocked on my door. She asked me why I had put my bin in front of her house. I told her what had happened. She told me it was rude to do that, and that next time I should write her a note.

I was a bit flabbergasted, as A. She has a driveway, so I was not blocking her parking space, B. It’s a pandemic and our street is pretty empty right now, and C. When it’s not a pandemic, we live on a busy street where unknown cars are almost always parked in front of our houses.

Am I missing some etiquette, or is this lady crazy?

GENTLE READER: Stir-crazy, perhaps. And not very nice.

Miss Manners would think that people had more important things to worry about than temporary trash can placement. But then, you probably have more important concerns than getting into a tiff with a neighbor. A pleasant “I’ll try not to do it again, but I’ll let you know if I have to” should close the matter.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: You receive a lot of questions about cutting people from relationships. Why is it unacceptable to just say, gently, “I think our relationship is over because of X, Y and Z. I don’t think we really have much to discuss. I wish you well, but in light of this realization, I do not want to be your friend.”

GENTLE READER: Because it is mean. Even someone who would be relieved to give up the pretense of a relationship that wasn’t working would feel bad at being dismissed as unworthy.

Thus the prevalence of ghosting. But being shunned is an extreme punishment, augmented with an unnerving and unending sense of doubt. So ghosting, and even sterner methods (such as getting a restraining order), should be reserved for those who refuse to accept the break.

Ordinary breakups deserve something more gentle. However, even Miss Manners cannot devise a charming way to say, “Go away; I’ve had enough of you.” She can only beg you to do the minimal damage that gets the job done.

So the kind dumper assumes the blame. Hence that old standby, “It’s not you, it’s me,” rather than your version of “It’s you.” And “This is not a good time for me” is better than “I’ll never have time for you;” as “I’m really too busy these days” is better than “I’m not that desperate.”

True, no one believes those euphemisms. But they hurt less. And surely you owe that much to someone for whom you must have at least once cared.

(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.)