Miss Manners asks, "Why is it that your friends are dictating what time they show up at your house in the first place?" ...

The woman stood at the toilet, partly facing me, smiling, then dropped her slacks and underwear, giving me a view.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My friends manage to arrive at most places at a specific time -- doctors’ offices, work meetings, etc.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A car wash I patronize has two single-occupant washrooms, one labeled “Men,” the other “Ladies.” I had ...

Not only is this more polite, Miss Manners assures you, but if you are truly an expert in any given field, waiting it out ...

Miss Manners therefore suggests that you turn that weak smile into something that does, in fact, betray your irritation, perhaps with a murmured “Not funny.” Anything less seems only to encourage him.