Don’t Be A Victim Of Good Manners
The People Who Can’t Say No (and there seem to be legions of them, which goes a long way toward explaining telemarketing) have been checking in with Miss Manners about their vacation plans.
Frankly, she wouldn’t have expected them to have any. She would have thought that People Who Can’t Say No would spend their vacations at home, taking care of their dozens of children.
But no. They’re all planning to spend their discretionary time entertaining or traveling with people they can’t bear to have around.
Ghastly people with horrid habits are descending on them for endless periods, during which these guests will be demanding, boring, work-intensive and critical. If the involuntary hosts attempt to avoid them by running away, they will find themselves in the custody of other demanding, critical, etc., people with whom they have nothing whatsoever in common - neither interests in what to do or see, nor preferences about what to eat or when to sleep - and who will trump all their decisions.
When Miss Manners expresses amazement that anyone would get into such fixes, those who do plead that they are the victims of manners - their own good manners.
“We have a nice little vacation house where we want to unwind, but relatives and friends and classmates we haven’t seen in decades and people we hardly know keep announcing that they are coming to visit and can’t afford to stay in a hotel. Short of selling the house, what can we do?”
“I like adventurous travel and put a lot of work into planning my trips, so people are always wanting to tag along. But then they always spoil it for me by complaining that they’re too tired to hike or they hate museums; they borrow my special shampoo I can’t get anywhere else and use it all up; they want to eat at fancier restaurants than I can afford; and they do stupid things like playing their white noise machines in the room so it sounds like it’s always raining. I can’t tell people I won’t take them when I know how lonely they are. How can I ever get to go off by myself?”
“I never should have told my officemates that I wasn’t going anywhere on my vacation this year. I had hoped to do some painting, but I’m not going to get a chance, because they’ve all assigned me chores. This one wants me to take care of her dog while she’s away, that one needs me to pick up his mail and the supervisor told me to take everyone’s plants home with me because vacation schedules overlap and there’s no one who’s going to be there all the time to be responsible for them. Do I have to lie and tell them I’m going out of town, after all?”
Miss Manners does know how to say no, and she will use this ability to deny that etiquette requires constant acquiescence. Why would she agree to a deal that puts the polite at the mercy of the rude?
People who want to vacation with others may declare that they will be visiting town, or that that trip sounds marvelous or that they are dying to see you. If these hints are answered with polite vagueness (“Do call us when you get here and let us know when you’ll have an evening free,” “I’ll let you know how it goes,” “I’ll call when I’m a little less busy”), that should be the end of it.
But those who rudely persist should be resisted politely (“I’m so sorry we can’t have you here,” “This trip is just to get away by myself,” “I won’t be able to manage doing another thing”).
No specific excuses are needed. A society that defines marriage as binding only as long as both parties are satisfied with it should not have to be told that holiday arrangements satisfactory to only one of the people involved may not be considered sacred.
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