Carolyn Hax: Be more direct with those who can’t take hint
Dear Carolyn: My husband and I tend to live in places that are attractive to friends and family. We’ve been quite open with our hospitality, but now we’re burned out. Additionally, our new place is just not suitable for overnight guests, and our work situations are not amenable to constant hosting.
We’ve been approached by friends telling us they want to “make a booking,” and we gently tell them we’re not accepting “bookings.” I’m not sure they take the hint. We’ve been dealing with family members who are not deterred when we tell them we have only a wooden floor for them to sleep on. Short of telling people, “No, you can’t stay here,” which sounds rude, how can we tell people we don’t want overnight guests right now? – Shangri La
Your problem has two halves: people who can’t say no, and people who can’t hear no. Make one half vanish by recognizing you can’t make anyone be a good sport.
Then deal with your half: Not knowing how to say no. Hints might feel polite, but when you just end up resenting people who fail to pick up on them, they ultimately defeat the purpose.
Just to be sure – the purpose is to remain close to people while not having them walk all over you (or you over them, en route to the bathroom). Right?
That’s an entirely honorable purpose, so trust it – and trust people to take the news like adults. Say something positive, set your limit, offer a lollipop: “We love your visits but can’t accommodate guests anymore. I can suggest great hotels.” Good people want to visit you, not burden you, and good riddance to the rest. Though I do feel the ache of justice when I imagine them on the floor.
Carolyn: I’m getting married soon. One of my groomsmen has a friend I’m acquainted with who can be charming, but occasionally seems to relish embarrassing people or making a scene, especially when he’s had too much to drink.
My fiancee and I struggled over whether to invite him, but decided since I really only know him through my groomsman, it wasn’t that much of an issue. I heard he was hurt when a save-the-date didn’t arrive, but that was to be expected.
That groomsman, however, may be getting married in the near future, and it’s a safe bet he’d ask me – and the oft-embarrassing friend – to stand with him. Doing the social calculus on the situation makes my brain want to explode. – Invitation Anxiety
Your brain just may go for it, fifteen years from now, when you remember how much you cared 15 years ago about wedding-invitation calculus.
In the meantime, have confidence in your nonissue ruling. His not being a close friend is ample grounds for courteous exclusion.
Just promise me that, when you meet this guy at your friend’s altar, you won’t launch into an unsolicited explanation session, a la, “I’m sorry we couldn’t invite you, it was a really small wedding blah blah gak.” People on the receiving end of these generally think, “That’s OK; we don’t like you, either,” and simply find the willpower not to say it. In the acquaintanceship rings of a social circle, noninvitations are a fact of life and should be treated as such.