Q. I am a writer. At a recent party I
was detained for some time by an American couple who were questioning me along the lines of 'How do you get your ideas?' and 'How long does it take you to write each chapter?' I felt that the polite couple did not know how to extricate themselves, and neither did I. I offered to refill our glasses and, while standing at the bar, caught sight of my brother-in-law's new girlfriend. 'Come and help me out,' I said. 'I'm stuck with two of the most boring Americans known to man.' We arrived back with the drinks and I began to introduce them. It turned out that they already knew each other, and my brother-in-law's new girlfriend turned to me and gasped, 'Surely these can't be the people you were talking about? Surely these can't be two of the most boring Americans known to man?' The Americans hung their heads and said, 'I guess we are pretty boring.' I was struck dumb and hung my head. Was there anything that I could have said at this point to spare their feelings, Mary?
Name and address withheld A. As a writer you were in a unique position to laugh guiltlessly and say to the Americans, 'Oh no, you don't get the reference! She's just quoting a line from one of my films to see how familiar you are with my work. You are supposed to reply, "No, we're not the boring
Americans. We're the ones that can help you to buy the plutonium." 'By responding in this way, you would have managed to confuse both the Americans and the offender to such a degree that they could not be sure whether any offence had indeed been given or intended. You would also have ensured that no one's feelings had been hurt as you breezily moved on to the next topic.
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