May 15, 2008

Dear Miss Mingle,

I adore your website and find the questions you answer fascinating. I love parties, and recently invited my new male companion ( I dislike using the term "boyfriend" as we are both in our forties) to a birthday party for a friend of mine. There were around fifty people there, mostly married couples. This was one of the first times we have been out as a couple since both of us divorced our previous spouses. My companion was a good sport to join me there, as he did not know a single person at this party. I only knew three people at this party, and I introduced my companion to them.

We proceeded to mingle around, and then the birthday cake was served, and all was going well, until...my companion began talking to a woman, and I swear this went on for an hour. People began to disperse, and my companion and this woman were the only two left in the dining room, locking eyes, intensely talking. I breezed by a couple times, stood next to him and lightly hooked my arm into his...he was unfazed, and the two of them continued their conversation, not giving me a glance.

At one point I brought him a drink, to which he said "thank you," but nonetheless kept his verbal volleyball game steady with this other woman. I did hear her asking him about his career as a musician, and her daughter wanting to play an instrument, and he spoke of ways to find the right music teacher, etc. At one point, I saw him write down her phone number on a napkin. It was getting late, and more people began to leave... I became desperate for someone to talk to, I walked through the kitchen to get another drink, and I found a person to talk to, (a mom) and we went outside to the garden, and talked about how we quit smoking. Finally, my companion came outside looking for me, and we left.

I feel that my companion was rude to me by spending so much time locked in conversation with this woman. Does it make me jealous and unattractive to mention this to him? Shouldn’t he have spent less time with her? Should I have asserted myself more in trying to join their conversation? Am I correct in thinking that monopolizing a person's time at a party is inconsiderate?

—Party Lover With a Chip

Dear Party Lover,

I must agree that this was less-than-gallant behavior on the part of your companion. It’s one thing to ignore you when you are across the room; it’s quite another to ignore you when you are bringing him drinks and linking arms with him. Nevertheless, what seems like blatant insensitivity on his part could be -- at least in part -- mingling ineptitude. Certainly, it is typical of men to glom onto one person at a party. Men are hunters and woman are gatherers; when men find themselves at a party where they don’t know anyone, they tend to seek out one person with whom they can settle in. Women are more likely to talk a bit to one person and then move on (in other words, to mingle!)

You might have been a little more assertive about entering their conversation. Or you could have employed the “shepherding” technique for breaking up a twosome: After you have met someone else and chatted to him for a few minutes, you say, “I would love for you to meet [name of your companion], he would really enjoy this conversation.” Then you simply bring this new person over to your companion and break in with “Excuse me for interrupting, but have you met _______?” With any luck the twosome will soon become a foursome.

Whether or not you should mention your wounded feelings to your companion is hard for me to say without knowing the exact nature of your relationship. If this is his first offense, a light teasing may be preferable to an accusation or complaint. (Complaining does something weird to the male species. When they feel guilty they tend to get hostile). In other words, “So who was that spellbinding woman you were talking to, anyway? You seemed hypnotized,” might be better than “How can you talk to another woman all night?!! How do you think that makes me feel?!!”

Note: Monopolizing one person at a party is not inconsiderate to that person, as long as the interest in the conversation is mutual. But Miss Mingle disapproves of all forms of party stasis -- as well as inattentive escorts.

April 22, 2008

Dear Miss Mingle,

I’m going to my high school reunion in May – mainly because my only real friend from those days is on the committee. I see that her fellow members are all people I really didn’t know, except in passing. This ignorance prompted me to get out my yearbook – to my horror it seems there were a whole bunch of people I didn’t know. What to say to them? I read their little squibs, but I can’ rely on what they were doing thirty-five years ago to jump start a conversation.

Then there’s the matter of their looks – will I recognize them? I might even have trouble with my old cronies. In fact, even thinking about all this makes me hope Miss Mingle will write a book entirely devoted to reunion survival.

One very pressing, uncharted area involves – naturally – myself. Emergency liposuction, an eye job, a wardrobe makeover? Maybe in the next few weeks I could learn Mandarin Chinese, just to impress the “popular girls.” I mean, this could get expensive and time-consuming.

How does one does one prevail, nay triumph, at a reunion???

—Freaked out Franny

Dear Freaked Out:

It can take superhero-like courage to attend one’s high school reunion. In fact, I believe it is for this particular occasion that many women purchase their very first item of “shapewear” -- otherwise known as a girdle. (Liposuction should be saved for a bigger emergency, like the wedding of one’s ex-husband to a 20-year-old super model.)

The fact is that while most people dread them, almost everyone ends up having a great time at reunions. Reconnecting with former classmates is like being able to magically travel back in time to your childhood, but with all the knowledge and experience you now have as an adult. It’s interesting at worst; exhilarating at best. It is true, however, that reunions are by their very nature Life Markers -- events which make you compare where you thought you might be by now with where you actually are. The most important thing to remember is that everyone else there is in the same (leaky) boat as you -- worried they haven’t accomplished enough or that they don’t look as good as they might. Whatever you do, try not to overcompensate for your areas of insecurities with self-aggrandizement. For example, if you are single and childless, it is not advisable to quip, “I don’t know how you find the time to raise children! I would never have gotten to go to Monte Carlo to accept my humanitarian award this year if I had kids.” On the other hand, it is perfectly acceptable to fudge certain vital statistics. If you are unemployed, you are a “freelancer” or you are “taking some time out for yourself.” If you are asked for a business card you don’t have, your cards are, regrettably, tucked away in the purse you left at home.

As for the many folks you most assuredly won’t recognize, I have one word for you: nametags. High school reunions are the very reason nametags were invented. If there are no nametags, or if you don’t recognize the name on a tag, you can simply toss out an enthusiastic “Hello! My god -- you look fabulous!” and move on to someone you do know as quickly as possible. Of course, there is always the danger that the person is not a classmate but the spouse of one -- and therefore a complete stranger to you. So here are some handy generic openers, ranging from super-safe to what-the-hell:

“Isn’t this incredible?!”

“So what are you doing these days?”

“I don’t know who you are, or whether or not you even went to this school, but let’s get a drink!”

March 28, 2008

Dear Miss Mingle,

I haven’t read any of your books yet (sorry) but here’s a question for you:  What do you do when you are at a dinner party and you are seated next to the most boring person in the Universe?

This happened to me a couple weeks ago and I thought I would kill myself.  This man just kept droning on and on until I wanted to shove his face in the soup.  By the time I realized what a bore he was, everyone else at the table was already engaged in other conversations.  So I just sat there, saying “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” over and over.  Please tell me what, if anything, I could have done to make the evening less horrible.

—Brooklyn Barbara

Dear Brooklyn Barbara,

It is exceedingly difficult to conversationally escape from someone at a sit-down dinner (unlike at a buffet when you can get up, and -- under the pretext of getting food -- relocate.)   However, it can be managed to a certain degree if you are willing to be proactive.

The first thing to do is to wrest control of the conversation from Mr. Boring.  Interrupt him in the middle of a sentence if you have to, but find a way to grab onto a word or sentence of his, use it to change the subject, and then -- start talking.  (“Oh, you garden?  My mother used to love to garden, but it got too hard on her knees…”)  Talk as if your life depended on it -- even if it is only about the viscosity of the soup in front of you.  Then, while you are talking, make eye contact with the person across from you, or with the person on the other side of Mr. Boring.  Bring this new person into the conversation (“We were just talking about gardening, Sally -- do you happen to know where you can garden in the city?”)  You need to wait until there is a verbal exchange between this new person and Mr. Boring; that is the moment you can make your conversational getaway.  As if your attention were suddenly pulled in another direction, turn to the person on your other side and begin to listen intently.  Jump in when you can.  If successful, this maneuver (known as the Human Sacrifice) sticks another person with Mr. Boring, at least for a time. 

The other thing you can do is to excuse yourself from the table to “freshen up” or to call the babysitter.  (You can’t do this right away, as it would be impolite to jump up five minutes after you have sat down.)  Stay away from the table long enough for Mr. Boring to attach himself to someone else at the table.   When you return to take your seat, turn immediately to the person at your other side and start talking to him or her.  If that person is already engrossed in a conversation, just keep your focus there anyway, and hopefully you will be able to join in at an appropriate juncture.

Obviously, you will need to execute either or both of these techniques with as much courtesy as possible.  And if all else fails, just settle in, enjoy the food and wine and try to be nice to Mr. Boring.  Think of it as an act of generosity.  Maybe the Dinner Party Gods will reward you by seating you beside George Clooney next time.

February 5, 2008

Dear Miss Mingle,

I know how strongly you believe that socializing with friends should be done in person, preferably in small groups at home. While I think this sounds ideal, I find myself limited by Julius, my 70 pound mutt who loves me and wants to protect me from everyone else in the world. I have tried a number of ways of trying to accustom him to guests, but he is wont to occasionally nip (er, bite) even the most ardent dog-lover.  If I put him in the other room, he emits plaintive whines that tear at the heart of even a dog-hater.

They say lonely people get dogs, but I know the truth: Getting a dog will make you more solitary, not less.  How can I mingle my friends and my dog?

—Julius's Human

Dear JH,

Interspecies mingling may be impossible in your case.  (I know someone who has a husband like Julius, but never mind).  If you have people over you are probably going to have to either take your dog to sit with a close friend for the evening or -- for a special-occasion party -- perhaps even to a nearby kennel, one you know and trust.   In any case, while at-home entertaining is beneficial to your social life, it is not yet a federal law.  And you do have the world’s best excuse for not entertaining.  (The next best excuse is a cat that pees indiscriminately).

The important thing is that you let friends know that your canine’s bad behavior is the reason for your lack of hospitality.  For instance, when complimenting your host at a dinner party, you should say something like, “I do wish I could reciprocate, but I have a dog that bites.  I've learned not to risk it.”  You can also offer to cook something and bring it to someone else’s house, it’s the next best thing to hosting.

P.S.  Dear Julius: Being territorial and jealous is no way to sustain a loving relationship.  If you let your mistress have friends over without your biting them maybe she'll let you chew up a sofa cushion.

January 14, 2008

Dear Miss Mingle,

Every holiday season I have this awkward problem with my doormen when I tip them. The thing is, it seems like no matter what I do, I get kissed. I’ve tried to follow the how-to-tip-the-doormen instructions given to me by the previous tenant of my apartment: holding out the envelope with my left hand while extending my right hand for a handshake. But every time, they pull me toward them, into a cheek kiss and/or hug.

I don’t want to insult anybody, but as a single woman it makes me uncomfortable, even though it’s done in a very friendly (not sleazy) manner. What can I do differently next year? Should I just resign myself to being kissed?

—Kissed Off

Dear Kissed Off,

I’m with you. While I have nothing against kissing in general, I simply don’t feel that I should have to kiss the building staff. One has to draw the line somewhere, and I think that line is right downstairs in my lobby by the front door. Otherwise, where will all this familiarity end? Are we going to have to start kissing our postmen, paperboys, grocers and bus drivers (“Here’s my metro card “smack, smack,” can I get a transfer?”)?

The doorman/tenant relationship is a unique one and, oddly enough, has many of the earmarks of intimacy. Your doorman sees you regularly, if not daily. He knows who your friends are; he probably knows who you are sleeping with. He knows when you go out and when you come home, and he knows how often you bring home pizza or ice cream. He’s seen you in all states of dress -- from your schleppiest outfit with no makeup and bad hair to your skimpiest summer attire. He’s seen you having a petty argument with a friend on the way to the elevator, or with tears streaming down your face after a break-up. Part of way you cope with this inescapable invasion of your privacy is to try to pretend that the doorman doesn’t know your whole life the way he obviously does. This self-deception necessitates certain personal space boundaries. And even though your doorman may be quite fond of you, and you of him, it’s precisely because he is privy to more of your life than most people are (and, inequitably, that you know virtually nothing about him!) that you need a certain amount of distance. In other words, hugs and kisses from the doorman jar you out of the all-important state of denial you need to survive life in a doorman building.

It’s extremely tricky to sidestep a doorman who likes to express his affection and gratitude for you in this osculatory manner. But here are some tactics to try:

Tip the doorman only when you have a large male friend by your side.

At the first sign of the advance, say loudly, “Don’t get too close, I have the flu!”

Try making your move while the doorman is in the process of actually holding the door open. (Note: Your timing must be perfect and you must be willing to risk minor injury from the door, which he may suddenly let go of.)

Hold out the envelope and say with a smile, “You have a choice. You can either give me a big hug, or you can have what’s in this envelope.”

At least then you might save a little money.

December 8, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I need your advice on how to handle a situation at work. My place of employment is a large corporation. The other day on the elevator, I ran into a woman from another department. We said hello, as we normally do when we see each other in the halls. After a moment, she turned to me and thanked me for “the job I’d done for her.” I was confused, since the last job I’d done for her was at least two years ago. I figured she couldn’t possibly be thanking me for that. Then she mentioned a client’s name that I recognized. Since I had just done work for another colleague regarding that particular client, I assumed she must have been somehow involved in that project.

But as she continued to talk, I realized that this woman had actually mistaken me for someone else. At that point I felt like it was too late to correct her, so I simply smiled, nodded, and said, “no problem.”

I run into this woman on a semi-regular basis and now feel it will be awkward the next time I see her in the halls or elevator. Should I correct her, explain that she mixed me up with someone else? Or should I simply let it go?

—Blending in with the Crowd

Dear Blending in,

By far the best thing to do is to ignore this faux pas. It never pays to embarrass someone. Embarrassment leads to guilt with can lead to hostility. Plus it’s simply nicer not to point out the mistakes of others -- unless you feel you can, by calling attention to an error, stop someone from hurting herself (or you) in the future. So if this woman wants to think you are Captain James T. Kirk, let her; as long as it doesn’t hinder your work or your position in the company. If, however, you think someone named Kirk is going to end up getting credit for your work (and perhaps your well-deserved promotion,) you may want to find a way to let her discover her mistake.

How is this accomplished? If you are lucky, the next time you see her someone else will address you in front of her, and she will realize her previous gaffe. If it doesn’t seem as if this will happen, and if you are the kind of person who is not averse to a little harmless intrigue, you can enlist the help of a third party. Go to where you know this woman will be, stand near her, and have the third party approach you with a distinct declamation of your name. As a last resort, you can try giving the woman a Christmas card -- delivered by hand and with your name clearly inscribed in large letters.

September 7, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

Out here in Los Angeles I've often gone to parties where there may be one or more celebrities lurking about. They have an odd way of sucking the air out of the room, especially if they're surrounded by a large posse whose only job is to keep other people away. However, occasionally I've encountered a lone celebrity, looking, alas, extremely alone, eager for conversation, but nobody - least of all me - has the courage to approach the person.  Any suggestions on what might be a good conversational opening gambit?

Thank you,

—Anne Taylor

Dear Anne,

It can be challenging to try to talk to celebrities.  They are so used to people wanting something from them that they can be prickly when approached.  On the one hand, the best course of action is to treat them as you would anyone else; on the other hand, you really can’t walk up to Jack Nicholson and say, “Hello, I’m Anne Taylor.  Who are you?”

Here are a few DOs and DON’Ts for Mingling with Celebrities:

DO approach the celeb with a casual observation about the party or the host, for example, “Doesn’t Katharine (the hostess) look wonderful tonight?”  or “Have you tried the alligator sausage?  It’s divine!”

DON’T comment on the fact that the celeb is alone at the party (“Did you lose your entourage in the parking lot?”)

DO flatter the celeb, but carefully.  “I really admire your recent charity work for the Sustainable Earth Foundation” is better than, “You were so sexy in that last movie!”

DON’T gush.  And never joke about being a crazed fan.  “I’m not a stalker, I swear!….I just really had to say hi!” is not recommended.

DO address the celeb by name instead of making them introduce themselves.  They know that you know who they are. So just go ahead and say “Hello, Mr. Myers, I’m Anne Taylor.”

DON’T call the celeb by one of his character’s names.  “Hiya, Shrek,” is a no-no.

DO remember that celebrities are people too; they go to the dentist, they have trouble sleeping, they worry about their children and wonder about the meaning of life.  You have more in common with them than you may think.

DON’T forget that the celeb is usually thinking only about himself  (“What am I doing standing here by myself?  I’m famous, for god’s sake!  I should be talking to someone…”)  Like most people, the celeb probably suffers from minglephobia, and you will be doing him a favor by going up and talking to him.   As long as you don’t mention the latest scandal you read about him in The Globe, everything should be fine.

August 5, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I am possibly your BIGGEST seventeen-year old fan. I have a mingling question for you:

Usually, when I am around people I know, or even adults that I don’t know, I feel comfortable and outgoing. However, when I am around kids my own age that I don’t know, I am painfully shy and that hampers me from making new friends and having fun. I would love to hear your ideas on what I can do to make myself less shy around my peers!

—Confused in Connecticut

Dear Confused,

It is natural for you to be more self-conscious around people your own age.  At seventeen, most of us care much more intensely about what our peers think of us than about what older people think of us. 

Besides remembering that, no matter how confident the other kids seem, they too are feeling insecure (at least some of the time,) you might try employing the following Survival Fantasy,” a technique I call “the Buddy System:”

When you find yourself in a social situation with people you don’t know, simply imagine that your best friend in the whole world is standing right over your shoulder--seeing what you are seeing, laughing at your witty comments, whispering encouragements in your ear.  If someone is mean to you, you will hear your friend mutter, “What a jerk!”  This technique may sound kooky but it actually works.  It is really just another way of learning to love yourself, which is the hardest assignment we have as human beings. 

P.S.  Be sure not to talk out loud to your imaginary Buddy!  (At least not so anyone can hear you).

June 12, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I have a very friendly 5-year-old daughter who is an engaging conversationalist.  When speaking with adults she is articulate and respectful.  However, she sometimes comments on hairstyles, hair color or clothing selections of the adult.  Needless to say, these comments, though not malicious, may be embarrassing or insulting to the adult.  I have worked with her explaining that she should not comment on any one's appearance, but sometimes she forgets.  What to do?  I can't leave her alone and I don't want her to hurt anyone's feelings and in most cases, I am left feeling ashamed and embarrassed.  Please help...

—Mother to a Future Fashionista

Dear MTAFF,

Your compassion for victims of your daughter’s inadvertent faux pas is admirable; most parents these days have way too much of a my-child-can-do-no-wrong attitude.  But you really shouldn’t worry about this kind of thing.  Not only do reasonable adults understand and forgive the occasional tactlessness of small children, but most actually find it rather charming.  (Of course, when little Susie asks your size 16 sister-in-law if she has a baby growing in her stomach, the charm factor may be diminished somewhat.)

My favorite technique for smoothing over this kind of offspring offense is something I call the Anecdotal Antidote.  Laugh apologetically and say something like, “ Sorry about that, but don’t feel bad!  Last week she told me I looked exactly like Yoda.”

May 15, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I want to know what you do when you try to give someone a business card and they refuse to take it!  I was at a party and this happened to me.  The girl said:  “I can just google you if I want to find you.  Or you can google me.”

— Painfully Rebuffed

Dear Painfully Rebuffed,

Miss Mingle takes a Very Dim View of people who behave in so rude a fashion.  You would have been well within your rights to reply, “Honey, I wouldn’t google you if you were the last person on Earthlink.”

April 30, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

A friend told me that pet food sections of grocery stores are a great place to meet people. But how is it done? Do you just park your cart there and lean against the shelves, or what?

— Coupon Don Juan

Dear Don,

Leaning against store shelves is definitely not recommended. What you can do, however, is to take your time perusing the pet products until someone who looks interesting comes along to shop for his or her own pet items. People love to talk about their animals, so it’s usually fairly easy to engage another shopper by soliciting advice about food, litter, toys, flea collars, etc. Before you know it you’ll be sharing shaggy dog stories -- and maybe even phone numbers. I have actually met some very interesting people this way; I once dated a guy I met in the pet food section of a grocery store in Chicago. Unfortunately, like his pet, he turned out to be nothing but a hound dog.

March 16, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I'm an aspiring talented artist trying to break into the art world.  I feel one important way is for me to attend art openings at galleries to meet people.   The problem is not knowing anyone and the general intimidating atmosphere of the event.  How do I meet people and make contacts that might help my career?   I'm not really shy, more hesitant about intruding.  It appears there are groups of people who know each other.  Do I stand close by and eavesdrop looking for an apologetic "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about..." interruption to include myself into the conversation? Do you have a better suggestion? I need your help.

— Charlie

Dear Charlie,

Art gallery openings are surprisingly tough mingling venues.  You would think the art itself would serve as a conversational lubricant; the truth is that most opening-goers rarely discuss the art. Many are reluctant to express an opinion for fear of revealing ignorance or somehow appearing uncool.  In addition, there is almost always a core of people at the opening who are there only to do business with each other and have little or no interest in talking to people they don't know.

Nevertheless, you are right to think it is a good idea for you to get out there and mingle.  The eavesdropping strategy you have described is a basic mingling staple I call "The Fade-in Technique" and is a perfectly acceptable tactic.  Indeed, if you listen hard enough and your interjection is pertinent enough, there is no need to be apologetic, just polite.  The trick is to act as if it is completely natural for you to be joining in – almost as if you have been in the group all along.  On the other hand, you may find it less daunting to mingle with singles.  One of the advantages of an art opening, mingling-wise, is that many people attend them alone, and it is usually easier to approach one stranger than it is to approach a cluster of strangers. Some safe opening lines: "Do you know the artist?"  "This is a great space." "Have you seen the artist's work before?" A bolder line: "Do you find mingling at these things as hard as I do?" (Be sure to smile when delivering this last line.)

There is one vital rule to remember as you enter the fray: Your purpose in any mingling situation is to have fun.  Whatever your other goals are (in this case, to advance your art career) they must be secondary.  Unless you truly enjoy the process of meeting and talking to new people, your success will be limited.  Think of the room of strangers as sumptuous buffet – and dig in! 

March 9, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I attended a crowded art opening recently. I noticed as I looked around the room, men staring at me. I stared back to see what they would do. Since the room was so crowded it was difficult to "divide the sea of people" to strike up a conversation. The only reason why we stopped staring at each other was because people interrupted our gazes. Normally, I would blush and divert my gaze, but this night in particular, I felt defiant. This type of encounter occurred with three men (in one evening, in one room). What does this mean, if anything? What do you recommend to do if it happens again?

— NYC Art Belle

Dear NYC Art Belle,

What does it mean?  I would say it means either that you are gorgeous or that on the night in question you were wearing something particularly unusual (An aluminum bikini? A pink neon hat?)  Perhaps you emit invisible come-hither signals.  In any case, eye contact is the first step in all human interactions.  Next time you find yourself in this kind of eye lock with someone, try this: Hold the mutual gaze for five seconds or so and then smile -- not a gay toothy smile, but a closed-mouth, inviting smile.  Keep holding the gaze for three more seconds before looking away, still smiling.  Then move slowly towards a piece of art or the wine table.  This body language combo gives most men Moses-like powers; no mere sea of people will stop him from finding his way to you.  But if he doesn't take the bait (or if other people get in your eye line and break the connection before the sequence is finished), work your way through the room until you are closer to him. In a super-crowded party you can even casually bump into him  ("Oh, hello! Didn't I see you at an opening at the White Box last week?")  Or if you really want to live life on the edge you can march right up to the man and say, "So why are you looking at me instead of at the art?"

Prolonged eye contact is always an invitation to dance, even if it is only the dance of conversation.  Say yes. 

P.S.  Were these straight, single men?  Are you sure you were in Manhattan?

February 20, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I never know what to do when my dentist wants to chat while I am in the chair.  Usually he has his hands in my mouth, making it very difficult to respond.  I think he does try to ask me questions that would only require a yes or no answer, but most of the time I feel that a yes or no isn't enough.  Unfortunately, scary Frankenstein-like moans and grunts are about all I can manage with someone's hands in my mouth.

I really like my dentist, and I like talking to him, but how can I get him to realize I can't talk with my mouth full of fingers?

—  All Gummed Up

Dear All Gummed Up,

You can always learn to speak fluent Dentese, otherwise known as "the Mmph-mmph language."  Basically it's one "mmph" for yes and two "mmph"s for no — accompanied, of course, by appropriate eye expressions (eye-widening, eye-rolling, eyebrow-raising, etc.)  However, as Dentese is only a slightly more sophisticated version of your aforementioned "Frankenstein moans and grunts," it may leave you feeling misunderstood and conversationally frustrated.

Oddly enough, most dentists can't seem to remember (don't ask me why) that they in fact do have their fingers in your mouth, and that the mouth is generally what one needs most for speaking.  Perhaps dental schools should require their students to take a class on the when's and how's of conversing with their patients — as well as with their staff in the presence of their patients.  The last time I had root canal, for example, I was none too thrilled at the way my dentist and his assistant yammered on about their respective weekends over my utterly ignored and terrified head.

The best way to train your dentist is to simply start talking while he's got his hands in your mouth, so that he has to remove them or someone's going to get hurt. (WARNING: Don't try this while there's any drilling or cutting going on).  This will slow him down until, sooner or later, he starts to get the message that he has to be more careful what kinds of questions he asks; or better yet, he'll stop talking to you altogether and pay attention to what the hell he's doing.

February 1, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

Here is my question:  Recently I went to a black tie party where they wanted everyone to wear name tags.  The thing is, I spent a lot of time and money finding a new dress for the event, and I really felt like I didn't want to ruin the whole effect I spent so much energy achieving with an ugly plastic rectangle with my name printed on it.  I also was afraid it would make permanent holes (my dress was silk).  Am I being too vain?  I should mention that it was a fundraiser for a very good cause.

—  Jennifer from San Diego

Dear Jennifer,

Vanity is one thing; sanity is another.  No one (my apologies to the unnamed Good Cause in question) should ever require you to pin or otherwise adhere a name tag to your new Prada.  I seriously doubt that marring high fashion will further the cause of any fundraising group.  After all, is it so difficult to ask a fellow guest who she is, instead of relying on cue cards?

January 27, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

During a business lunch with a very friendly and open colleague, is it appropriate to broach personal topics, or should one stick to more general matters in order to maintain a professional relationship unsullied by "true confessions?"

— Looking for the Lunch Line

Dear Looking for the Lunch Line,

The answer to this question depends a lot on just what your business relationship is.  If you are dining with your boss, you should try to avoid talking about your personal life unless he or she asks about it.  On the other hand, if you and your colleague are on equal footing, by all means get personal--it's usually more relaxing and therefore goes better with food (not to mention the fact that it will help you to bond with this particular workmate and that can be advantageous).  Do be sure, however, not to discuss your fiancé's gender reassignment or your mother's problem with heroin unless you feel you are really close friends. There is still a delicate balance to be struck with pals from the office, and you never know when your lunchtime confidences will become grapevine fodder. 

January 19, 2007

Dear Miss Mingle,

I know you have written a lot about people having "minglephobia" but the truth is I love going to big parties – even parties where I don't know many of the other guests.   My problem is my husband.  Every time we  go to a party he starts telling these horrible "guy-walks-into–a-bar" jokes. The jokes are not even funny -- the only funny thing is that my husband never seems to notice that people will make an excuse to go talk to someone else shortly after hearing one of his jokes.  Yet most people laugh (out of politeness) so that later when I try to tell him that he shouldn't keep telling these jokes, he won't listen to me.  He just thinks I don't like them.  Which of course I don't, as I have heard them all about 40,000 times.

The frustrating thing is that my husband is actually quite interesting and a really nice guy – it's just that somewhere along the line he got the idea that telling jokes was the key to social success.  What can I do to make my husband stop being such a jokester at parties?  He is taking all the fun out of it for me.

— Not Laughing

Dear Not Laughing,

The way I see it you have several options:

1. Split up.  I don't mean forever, just for the duration of the party.  Go mingle on the other side of the room.  There's no rule that says you have to stick around while your husband tells these jokes.  In fact, from a mingling standpoint it's much better for husbands and wives to circulate separately. You will meet more people and have much more fun.  You can always meet up occasionally to recharge and share helpful mingling information ("Whatever you do don't talk to that man in the yellow tie; he's trying to sell insurance.")

2. Divert him.  If you are not comfortable leaving your husband's side (perhaps you feel it is your wifely duty to try to keep him from committing social suicide) try distracting him the way you would a small child.  Cut his joke off at the knees with a "Honey, will you get me a drink?"  or a "Wait, honey -- before you tell that joke, I want to ask these guys whether anyone has been to that new bar downtown."  Hopefully the conversation will get rolling along in this new direction and Hubby may forget all about the joke.

3. Ditch him.  He probably won't forget all about it, on the other hand.  Joke-tellers have a one track mind.  You may find the best course of action is to make a hasty escape before the joke gets going.  At the first sign of the joke, place your hand on your husband's arm and address the group:  "I love this one but if you'll excuse me, being married to Jim I have already heard it."  Then just walk away.  This strategy can work as a long-term solution as well as a short term one, just as continual use of a medication can actually cure the disease as well as help alleviate symptoms; if your husband does not like mingling without you, he will learn that telling this kind of joke in public will make his wife disappear faster than you can say Pavlov's dog.

4. Use him:  If you really want to get back at him for not listening to you, you can use him to dump your unwanted conversations; for example, if you find yourself talking to a bore, escort him or her over to your husband, saying: "You must meet my husband -- you have a lot in common."  (Listen, all's fair in love and mingling.)

5. Sabotage him:  If you are desperate enough to risk starting a major marital war, try this:  Every time he starts to tell a joke, jump in precipitously with the punch line ("Oh, this is the one where it turns out he's actually talking to the duck!")  Unfortunately, while this will successfully derail your husband's joke, you are going to look like a bimbo.

6. Join Him:  Become a joke-teller yourself.  Match him joke for joke.  Your husband might come to understand, by watching you perform, that constantly telling jokes is not conducive to successful mingling.  Or you never know, maybe you'll both discover that you should be the designated joke-teller of the family!

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