Miss Manners: I got in a cupholder argument with another concertgoer. Which of us was right?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I went to a concert the other night. What’s the etiquette if the cup holder is in the armrest of everyone’s chair, including both end seats? Which cup holder does each person get?

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I had an argument with the guy next to me.

GENTLE READER: It’s the one to your right, just as at the table.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My son and I have a gentle disagreement about the host’s responsibility at a dinner party or holiday table.

As a host, I look for opportunities to foster conversations that might involve everyone around the table. Otherwise, couples or friends will begin their own discussions. This makes it less fun for all, especially for the quiet individuals who don’t engage in conversation with their neighbors.

At one such dinner, my son whispered to me, “You’re being manipulative!” I said yes, I am doing my host duties.

Help us settle this, please!

GENTLE READER: You win.

The late, great sociologist David Riesman once told Miss Manners that he had preceded her in the etiquette business, citing his observation of the manners of fellow academics when acting as hosts.

They apparently shared your son’s fear of being manipulative. Therefore, they performed no introductions, provided no seating plan and certainly did not attempt to check that everyone was included in conversations.

The result, Riesman said, was perfectly terrible parties, where people talked only with those in their own departments, whom they had seen all day — or those with whom they had arrived, and would see all night.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have been taking time off work to help care for my father, who has incurable cancer.

To clients I don’t know well, I’ve said, “I’ll be out of town to help my dad, who is sick.” They almost invariably reply, “I hope he feels better soon.”

I know they mean well, and I usually manage to take it that way. But that doesn’t stop it from feeling like a gut punch, because I know he is only going to feel worse over the few months he has left.

The first time this happened, I was so gobsmacked that I said, “Thanks, but this isn’t a getting-better situation,” which felt graceless and stopped the conversation.

Telling people “I’ll be out of town to help my dad, who has stage 4 cancer” sometimes (not always!) avoids the “feel better” comments, but can feel like oversharing.

I’d love advice on navigating this, and perhaps also a reminder to readers that when you don’t know the nature of an illness, “I hope they feel better soon” isn’t necessarily the kind comment you think it is.

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GENTLE READER: What would you suggest? That your clients probe you until they find out enough about the situation to show the appropriate amount of sympathy?

Miss Manners considers it more helpful for her to remind anyone in your sad situation to refrain from confidences that require a sympathetic response.

You could have excused yourself to your clients by merely stating that you would be absent on family business — replying, if there were questions, that it was a personal matter.

Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, [email protected]; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.