A Well-Preserved Gentleman

Dear G&G,

I am a gay gentleman of a certain age and I frequently find myself seeking company on those long, lonely weekend nights. Recently I was privileged to spend the evening with a scrumptious young lion, but as I was leaving his apartment, I noticed something that continues to bother me, even now.

Every single pair of his shoes, from tennis shoes to Bruno Magli leather loafers - had been neatly stowed in individual Tupperware containers and accordingly labelled. Indeed, everything about this gentleman’s domicile was similarly neatly and, might I even say, obsessively arranged.

What I am wondering is this: is it possible that my erstwhile lay date is a serial killer or some other sort of miscreant? And should I worry about running into him during a game of tennis or, God forbid, a working weekend in the country? How does one introduce a serial killer to one’s friends, without putting the absolute kibosh on the festivities?

I await your wise response.

F. W. Fluppertare, Esq.

My dear gentleman,

You’ve worried Miss Verity on your behalf, although not, she confesses, enough to make her cut short her vacation and return to the keyboard to answer this sooner. Yes, I should say it is not merely possible but extremely probable that what you have there is a serial killer, of the organized type. Before you proceed any further with this relationship–always assuming that you have not, in Miss Verity’s absence, proceeded so far that you are even now residing in a freezerbox somewhere, carefully dismembered and labelled–you must ascertain what his motivations and, if I may risk the word, tastes are. Are you, in other words, quite safe in his company? Serial killers are one of those instance when one doesn’t want too much of the other person’s attention.

Having determined that you aren’t in his target socioeconomic class or division of haircolour or whatever group his guiding principle applies to. Miss Verity sees no impediment to the relationship other than his ghastly unspeakable habit of buying Tupperware–vile plastic stuff! If you can overlook that, you are undoubtedly possessed of an accommodating nature (just possibly too accommodating, but then it isn’t Miss Verity’s job to chide you for your taste) that will make the relationship run smoothly.

As a point of etiquette she does urge you to, wherever possible, forgo introducing him to your friends. If one of them ends up in a neatly-filed box of some kind, the rest are almost certain to level the cut direct your way, and you frankly have enough cutting to be worried about at present.

yours as ever,
Miss Verity

Ill-Starred

A Lady Writes:
Dear Gin and Gentility,

Some years back, during my university days, I entered into a friendship with two other young ladies of my own age. While our first several months of acquaintance passed happily and without incident, one of these two young ladies, who I shall call Miss A, soon proved to have abominable taste in women.

To wit, she became entangled with a neurotic dancer.

During the course of this unfortunate tendresse, Miss A’s behavior became quite inward and distraught, but I and the second young lady, our mutual friend Miss B, put it down to her unfortunate romantic circumstance. After all, when one is constantly coping with a neurotic (and rather sadistic) dancer, one has little time for other concerns.

Luckily, in time this interlude passed, Miss A recovered, and Miss B and I breathed a sweet sigh of relief. The happy days of our friendship returned, and we even came to room with each other.
Indeed, Miss B and I found it a hopeful sign when, a year later, Miss A fell head over heels for a promising young female pre-medical student, and we gladly encouraged her.

Unfortunately, once happily ensconced in a relationship, Miss A’s behavior deteriorated once again and as to rooming with each other - she left us in the lurch. She even had the temerity to ask us to make an appointment to enjoy the pleasure of her friendship!

Needless to say, the acquaintance cooled. But neither Miss B nor I had the heart to cut off relations with the friend of our youth.

After several years of only contacting Miss B in order to protest her romantic woes when things with the lady medical student were going badly, or to use Miss B as a source of useful trivia in the fashion of an almanac, Miss A has apparently used up the last of Miss B’s patience. Miss A appears immune to all gentle hints by Miss B on the subjects of etiquette and time spent on the gentle joys of friendship.

How may I assist my friends in resolving this difficulty of communication? How does one deal with a young woman who is convinced she is the star of a romantic drama?

- A Perplexed Correspondent

Dear Perplexed Correspondent,

Miss Verity apologizes deeply and sincerely for the time it’s taken her to post anything in response to your dilemma. She hasn’t, she wishes to assure you, been ignoring you. Rather, she’s been puzzling over how best to advise you. Because this is, she confesses, a problem she has faced before, and she has never quite found the perfect solution.

The current vogue to encourage people to believe they are “the stars of their own lives” is, she believes, largely to blame. Society would benefit hugely if people would leave off such overinflated notions and consider the humbler but worthwhile possibility that they are, in fact, minor walk-on characters who may still, by doing their very best, win the accolades not merely of the sympathetic circles of friends that surround them but even of that Eternal Critic whose review matters most in the end.

The problem lies in convincing self-crowned drama queens that their co-stars deserve their share of stage-time and curtain-calls–and that friends are co-stars, not merely convenient people to send running for extra vases when one’s dressing-room is filled to overflowing with roses. Reminding her of how very much you value friendship because it allows you to discuss other things than love affairs might work, particularly if you write it out in a note she could be encouraged to tuck into her mirror-frame (or have it tattooed on her hand, possibly), but in extreme cases such polite hints often go unheeded.

And so Miss Verity is throwing open the floor to her colleagues, and asking them to assist in suggesting solutions.

~Miss Verity

Sit, Stay, Give Paw!

A Lady writes:

Dear G&G,
My gentleman friend has an unfortunate habit of making teensy social errors. I believe his assertions that he is well-meaning, but an idiot.

Is it socially acceptable to deal with this well-meaning idiocy by chaining him to the wall so he has less range within which to cause me distress? Or is there some other method you would suggest? I’m very fond of him, so do not wish to see him harmed, but if he keeps on as he’s going I may well harm him myself.

~Besotted But Annoyed

My dearest Madame,

It seems an unfortunate Law of Nature that, just as there are dreadfully clever and socially well-adjusted people in the world, there are also dolts, as well as those who are simply oblivious to the needs and welfare of those around them. I often think that such persons ought to be taken at once into custody and remanded into some sort of Etiquette Training Camp, where they might be instructed in the social niceties, with the ultimate goal being that no one would ever again have to suffer the sort of indignities you appear to have suffered, according to your charming letter.

But, until such an Institution is raised, by sheer dint of public hue and cry, we must muddle through as best we can. You say that your gentleman friend is “well-meaning, but an idiot” in which case I wonder whether education can possibly help him. My aide, Lt. Casselle, is similarly stupid when it comes to social mores; as a result, I make it a policy never to take him anywhere if I can avoid it. A person who is stupid in social situations can be likened—if you will permit me the indelicate metaphor—to a dung bomb: likely to go off at any time without warning, with the result being a foul-smelling mess for anyone within range.

I fear that your friend’s unfortunately stupid behaviour can only be curtailed by constant vigilance, Madame, on your part: you must check him, and check him hard when he errs; this is the only way in which he can be made aware of his faux pas. If you are entertaining guests in your domicile and he messes, then you must immediately seize him by the collar and shake him, as one would shake a recalcitrant puppy; at the same time, declaim loudly, “BAD BOY! BAAAAAAAAD BOY!” If your guests look askance at this display, merely explain that you are training him, and that such correction does not hurt him; rather, it teaches him to recognise his errors on his own. In time, he may come to realise that indiscriminate behaviour is wrong, that chatting up tarts is inappropriate, and that social diseases, despite what he may think, do walk amongst us on two legs! (To that end, I have some excellent brochures in my office, detailing the ravages of venereal disease. These can be yours for the price of a self-addressed, stamped envelope; send same to me in care of the Palais de Justice, Casablanca.)

It is important to remember, Madame, that you reward your gentleman friend for his good behaviour, when and if it occurs. I find it helpful to keep a small packet of biscuits in my desk drawer, for those rare times when Casselle rises above his native stupidity and does something useful. These can be had from your local grocer for only a few francs, and I find a biggish box lasts me for rather a long time!

I trust, Madame, that these suggestions will be useful to you. When in doubt, I find a rolled-up newspaper, whacked hard on the floor very near his nose, will immediately put a stop to embarrassing behaviour, should other methods of correction fail.

Tout a toi,

Louis

Friend Seeking Benefits

A Gentleman writes:
Dear G&G:

I have a problem that is perhaps not unique, but nevertheless, it bothers me enormously. I am in love with someone who, as far as romance goes, doesn’t know I exist. He considers me a good friend and we chat every day - in fact, I see more of him than I do a good many other people.

I have carried this torch for so long; I hardly remember. I have, from time to time, dropped subtle hints, but my friend doesn’t seem to catch on - or, he does catch on and is pretending not to understand, for both our sakes.

I am between the devil and the deep blue sea: on the one hand, I wish to make my feelings known to him, but on the other hand, I am afraid I would lose his friendship if I made just such a confession. My friend is a very close-mouthed man, and one who does not easily show his emotions; I cringe to think what his reaction would be if I have got it wrong and he doesn’t care for me as anything more than a friend!

Tell me: should I risk telling my friend how I feel? Or should I nurse my love in secret - even if this secret is tearing me apart?

Sincerely,
Brokenhearted

Dear Brokenhearted,

Miss Verity sympathizes with your conflicting urges to preserve your friendship while reaching for something more. It is for just such dilemmas as this that the Gods gave us gin–and if you don’t believe gin is a gift divine in origin, she thinks your religious situation is much more perilous than your romantic one, and will wait here patiently while you hie thee hence to a site of worship and put your soul in order.

Is that sorted? Good. Now, then, you must arrange to be alone with your friend at a time when you are visibly, but not unattractively, tipsy. To drive the point home with perfect clarity, she suggests you pour up a refill in his presence, having first seen to his needs–his alcoholic refreshment needs, she means; let’s not jump the gun here. Once you are reasonably sure he knows you are under the sway of Benign Spirits, she suggests you lean in and kiss him passionately, then confess your feelings.

If he flees in terror, you always have recourse the next day to that useful social fiction of having entirely forgotten whatever it is you did while inebriated. Make a point of stating so, clearly and with embarrassed laughter, and the friendship at least should survive.

wishing you luck,

Miss Verity

My Love Don't Cost a Thing

Perplexed writes,

Dear Gin & Gentility,
Recently a male “just a friend” of mine gave me several expensive gifts, and an alarmingly impassioned letter claiming I owned his heart and soul. I did not ask for the gifts, the letter, or his heart and soul. Would it be bad manners to sell any or all of these things on eBay?
~Perplexed

My darling lady,

The manner of affections between the sexes is a vexed question and has been since Time Immemorial. (Even with romance within one’s own sex, there can be difficulties, especially if the object of one’s affection is a close-mouthed, emotionally stunted cynic whose entire romantic career has been spent pining after a married woman!)

No gentleman ever forces his affections on a lady; to do so is quite beyond the pale. Once a lady and a gentleman have reached a mutual agreement about the discourse of their association, then presents may of course be exchanged: he may gift her with jewellery (always tasteful!) or with small items of intimate clothing, to be worn only in their boudoir, or he may gift her with flowers. Gifts of live animals are rarely a good idea: there may be allergies, or, her landlord may forbid the presence of pets; gifts of other people are similarly not advised, on the grounds that trade in human beings is illegal. One should never present sexual paraphernalia unless such boundaries and norms have already been clearly delineated: a man never looks so foolish as when he is standing outside his lady’s home with a rubber fetish suit wrapped around his neck.

Your specific dilemma, however, seems to be unique, in that the lady in question has no visible relationship with the gentleman. Therefore, his continual thrusting of gifts upon her would appear to be a sad and unmanly cry for attention, which is in itself a kind of plea for help, the sort of help which can only be furnished by a medical professional bearing a particular white jacket with sleeves in the back.

By all means: sell the things he’s given you. I recommend selling the ‘hard’ goods on eBay and his heart and soul can be donated to a charity of one’s choice.

Tout a toi,

Louis.