The Dinner Party Bore

 You are bound to meet one; here's how to deal with him (or her)

 

The festive season is in full swing now, and you know what that means, don’t you? Yes, there will be an endless slew of dinner parties that you will have to attend from here until the New Year dawns. And that means donning your finery and heading out for banal conversation and indifferent food night after night, until you are ready to scream blue murder. 

 

If you are anything like me, you will inevitably end up being stuck with the biggest bore in the gathering, exchanging bland platitudes while your eyes glaze over and you slowly lose the will to live. But don’t worry, help is at hand. I have spent the last few years perfecting my technique to end boring conversations and head on to someone more interesting at the party. And today I am going to share some of my tips with you so that you too can terminate your conversations with the resident bore without causing undue offence.

 

·       The most obvious way to move on is actually the most effective. While nodding and smiling at your interlocutor suddenly break away to look in the distance with a huge grin on your face. Wave madly as if you have caught sight of an old friend you haven’t seen in ages. Then, before the bore in question has had time to turn around and look, excuse yourself with a hurried, “I can’t believe he/she is here; must say hello!” and dash across the room.

·       Keep a drink in hand at all times. And when you feel that you are in danger of being trapped by a crashing bore, gulp it down quickly, look down at your glass with some surprise and say, “Oops, I seem to be running on empty. Let me get something to drink. Back in a tick.” We all know you are never coming back, but it’s only polite to act as if that is a real possibility.

·       Catch hold of a passing friend or acquaintance and offer to introduce them to the bore you are talking to. After you’ve made your introductions and they are making stilted conversation with one another, quickly make yourself scarce. Don’t do this too often, though, if you want to retain the friends you have. (Conversely, if you see a good friend stuck with a party bore, do go over and rescue them. I find that saying, in a firm tone of voice, “Can I borrow A for a moment? There’s someone I want him/her to meet” does the trick quite nicely.)

·       Make a pact with a friend who is also at the party and promise to call each other if either of you is stuck with a bore. Once the call comes through, look down at your phone, look concerned – even a bit worried – and say, “Sorry, but I have to take this.” Then move away to take the call – and make good your escape.

·       And if all of this seems like too much effort, then simply be upfront. After a few minutes of conversation, simply hold out your hand and say, “It’s been great catching up with you, but I must circulate now.” In this – as in all of life – sometimes the direct approach is the best one.

 

The Dinner Party Pest

Here is how you identify him -- or her 

 

I am not a great one for dinner parties but, of late, I have ended up going to quite a few on the trot. And on each and every one occasion, I have encountered the bane of my existence: the Dinner Party Pest (DPP). You know who I am talking about, don’t you. Well, in case you don’t, here’s a quick checklist to help you identify him or her next time you are out and about. 

 

·       There is always that one person who ruins your mood the moment you enter by asking, with faux concern, “You are looking a bit tired, everything okay?” There is nothing more demoralizing than being told that you look ‘tired’ when you are anything but – and when you have spent time and energy on trying to look your best. I find this kind of opening even worse than that other great standard that DPPs often use: “Gosh, you’ve lost so much weight! You must tell me your secret.” The secret, of course, is that you weigh exactly the same as you did the last time you met them; but now you know they think you are fat. Charming!

·       The DPP always tries to suss out your social standing by asking within the first few minutes of meeting you: “Where do you live?” And then, depending on your answer he or she decides if you are worth his or her time. If you’re lucky, you won’t make the cut. If you are not, then you are in for a long and tedious conversation that will leave you gagging for another drink.

·       I often turn down offers of second and third helpings with the explanation that I am diabetic and need to watch what I am eating. That announcement is usually enough to make even the most generous host back off. But sadly, it propels the DPP in attendance into action. This person (who has no medical expertise, whatsoever) now thinks that it is entirely acceptable to lecture me on how to “reverse my diabetes” through diet and exercise and give up on the medicines that have been prescribed by my (highly regarded) doctor who actually knows a thing or two about endocrinology. Honestly, it’s enough to make me want to drown my annoyance in a vat of ice-cream.

·       The DPP also has an interesting line in intrusive questions. It could range from asking if you have had Botox to asking how much your house is worth in the current market. Women of a certain age will be asked why they aren’t married yet, or if they are married, why they haven’t had children yet. It doesn’t matter how slight your acquaintance is, the probing questions will keep coming, with no topic being off-limits.

·       The most lethal sample of this breed is the person who combines the worst qualities of the DPP with that of the Dinner Party Bore (DPB). This person will buttonhole you to bore you death with his or her views on every conceivable topic under the sun, completely oblivious of the fact that your eyes began glazing over with boredom a good half an hour ago. If you are stuck with one of these, good luck with trying to extricate yourself from the conversation. You will need it!