YOUR PROBLEMS SOLVED
Dear Mary. . .
Q. I know you have already dealt with the problem of social spitting, but my dilemma is a variation on the more usual theme. I am a spectacle-wearer and want to know what the correct drill is when somebody at a party, spitting by mistake, hits one's spec- tacles in the middle of one's eye range. This happened to me the other day with some- one who had been eating pizza.
A.B., London W8 A. Thank you for your query. In the case of solid matter adhering to a spectacle lens, one way to avoid embarrassing the culprit is to drop something swiftly — ideally a nap- kin. This will give you the opportunity to remove the offending material discreetly during the process of stooping and recovery.
Q. For several years now I have had a good business relationship with a young West Indian man who supplies me with cannabis. However, he is becoming increasingly familiar, often lingering after he has made a delivery for half an hour or more, asking impertinent questions about my personal. life. Clearly, he has come to regard himself as more than just a business acquaintance. In spite of his profession, I've found him to be both honest and reliable and I've no wish to end our relationship. But I don't feel I have room for him in my life as a `friend'. Is there a polite way of keeping one's drug dealer at arm's length?
Name and address withheld A. Next time you see your dealer, greet him wearing a more than usually 'spaced-out' facial expression. Inform him that his goods have recently been inducing in you a new mood of mellowness. 'It's great, man,' you can drawl. 'I feel so laid-back these days that I can just sit here for hours, not saying a word, just happy in my own head.' Respond to any further impertinent queries with a beatific smile and knowing nod until he loses patience and learns to seek conver- sational stimulus elsewhere.
Q. My elderly mother has lived in the same small house in a fashionable part of Lon- don for 50 years. While what we call the `synthetically smart' set has tarted up the street, her exterior may now look just a lit- tle shabby. She has heard rumours that neighbours are asking what is going to hap- pen to her house. The other evening she answered the doorbell to a complete stranger, a smartly dressed Frenchwoman, who pointedly inquired whether she would consider selling. As my mother intends to go on living and has no intention of moving or dying, could you advise on what she might do to set the record straight?
W C., London SW1 A. One method your mother might prof- itably employ would be to affix a little plaque adjacent to the doorbell announcing `Inquiries regarding this house should be directed to —' and giving a British Telecom premium-rate service-line number. 'Calls are charged at £1.50 per minute.' The service can be set up by telephoning BT on 0808 100 1293. This means that any further nuisance callers will have to pay through the nose to listen to a long-drawn-out recorded mes- sage: 'Thank you for calling this premium- rate service-line number with your inquiry... ' before learning the news that the house is not for sale. The plaque will serve two purposes. First, it will reproach the smarties for their presumption. Second, it will generate a small income for your mother. Splitting the profits 60/40 with BT, she stands to make a tidy 90p profit per minute on every inquiry (after she has paid the £25 set-up fee).
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