YOUR PROBLEMS SOLVED
Q. I dwell in a tiny village on the west coast of Scotland, where a well-known actor — a very well-known actor, indeed, who even co- starred in a recent Bond film — has recently become a near neighbour. Usually, I would invite such newcomers to dine, or for drinks at least; but there is a general reluctance within the community to make any sort of approach, not owing to the chap's celebrity, but born of the view that he may well have chosen to settle here so that he'll not be dis- turbed. Then again, my new neighbour may be anxious to become part of the community, and this apparent lack of any gesture on our part may seem hostile. I'm confident, Mary, that you can suggest a remedy. Many of my friends were at school with this fellow's wife, so we do have a tenuous connection. I'm sure you'll appreciate it will be advantageous to publish neither my name nor my address. Name and address withheld A. Driving 60 miles for a drinks party is not unknown in Scotland where 'people like us' are thin on the ground. However, fear of the unknown could deter your celebrity neigh- bour from responding to a local overture of friendship. Therefore you must hand-pick a selection of your most fetching family pho- tographs and have a collaborator in a cheap car drop them, in an unmarked brown enve- lope, through the letterbox of the celebrity's house. After a few days send a note saying
Dear Mary.. .
you understand that some photographs, bor- rowed by someone who wished to copy them, have been returned to his house in error. Can you drop round to collect them, or would he and his wife like to drop them round to you and have a drink, or are they lying doggo socially? Having had the chance to study your charming countenances in detail as he puzzles over this mystery bundle, he will no doubt jump at the chance of meeting you.
Q. I am a 78-year-old widower living on my own. In my retirement flats there are at least three widows for every widower. Four are especially good friends and always offer to help if I get the flu or have a fall. To accept only one offer — whether the said lady acts as sole help, or whether she arranges some kind of rota among the others — inevitably looks to all concerned like a special relation- ship, which I don't want. On the other hand, if I gratefully accept all four offers it seems rather arrogant of me to try to organise them myself, as if I had a harem. And, anyway, you get mixed up when you are ill and then two plates of scrambled egg arrive simultaneous- ly, which is embarrassing for me and annoy- ing for the makers of the scrambled egg. There must be many other men in the same position. What should we do?
Name and address withheld A. In genuine harems jostling for status is reduced by awarding each woman a sepa- rate function. You could let each of your fans feel special by allowing one to cook, one to deal with paperwork, one to deal with medical requirements and another with shopping. Make each one feel she is the only one who can competently fulfil her specific role, and happiness will reign.
Q. My sunglasses keep slipping off my face because I have the habit of wearing them on top of my head and they get stretched. What should I do, Mary?
E.H., London SW3 A. Glamorous optician Tony Gross of Cut- ler & Gross corrects this problem by the use of a special optician's heat machine, but you can perform the same trick at home with a hairdryer. Simply heat the sun- glasses until they are malleable, then squeeze back into shape.
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