I believe I'm posting
Miss Manners' column on empty-handed guests for the third time, because it keeps hitting close to home. It hit again this weekend, and I'm still upset about it. I'm less upset about the bringing and most upset that I'm upset. It's not unlike when the RM gave me a set of pearl earrings for my birthday, or a couple of boxes of chocolate after I'd told him that I was cutting back; I resented the gifts, but not as much as I resented the position he put me in of feeling like crap for spurning it. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. This weekend incident also reminded me of when my mother sewed sequins on my Ivy Day dress, after I had specifically asked her not to (she'd suggested it, I said no). Then she didn't understand why I was upset, because she'd put in so much effort. Doing something that I'd specifically asked her not to do. Oh, did I tell you about the time she begged me for the address of where I was meeting a potential roommate (in Boston) so she could tell the police where to look in case I didn't come home, and I relented on the condition that she wouldn't show up, only to see her pull up at the specified location at the specified time? She was livid, having driven in the heat, her arm in a cast, when I angrily told her to leave "now".
This weekend incident was not nearly as dramatic as those events (and the person in question is cool and didn't overreact), but I'm still uneasy about it. I'm also fascinated by it because of the multiple issues in question: culture, food, etiquette. So here's what happened: I had an anti-Valentine's Day party on Saturday. I noted on the evite that people needn't bring anything, and I specifically told a friend whom I saw the Tuesday (lets call her M) before not to bring anything. I emphatically said--and her friend in the car, also coming to the party, heard me say--please. do. not. bring. food.
I ask that people not bring food for all or most of the reasons discussed in Miss Manners' column. Not only do I not want people to bother, but I take care to put together a menu of appetizers that will fit well together. I make a lot of food, and I want people to eat that food. Now, in the course of planning, a friend who likes to cook did ask whether she could use this opportunity to try to make a vegan appetizer to bring, and I said sure. She asked, I said yes. I adjusted my menu accordingly. But I just can't have random people bringing food.
As you've probably gathered, M brought food. And insisted that I serve it. I said no once. She asked again. I was about to relent, out of politeness, but asked if it was vegan. She said no, it had cheese in it. Which brings us to a whole new level of issues. Why would you bring to a party a dish that the host doesn't eat, on ethical grounds? The bigger issue is, why would you bring a dish to a party when the host specifically asked you not to. But now there's an added issue.
I don't have parties to make a point about vegan food; I have a party to entertain. However, I do like to demonstrate that you can have a complete, interesting, tasty vegan spread. That you don't need animal products to have a good set of party appetizers. So why am I going to mess with that by putting out food with cheese in it? And then I'd have to find the other vegan and lactose intolerant guests and say, "by the way, that one dish does have cheese in it."
Another note: M's friend brought donuts (from Dunkin' Donuts). But she noticed that they were out of place and unneeded, and I saw her and her friends dispatch of them out of the corner of my eye. At no point did she demand that I make room for them on the table. It was a bad idea (again, see the column), but it didn't create awkwardness for me in the end.
The non-vegan nature of the food offering(s) riled me less than the offering itself, but it did confound me. It's partly that M doesn't quite get the vegan thing. She thinks--she asked me about it when she had to lose weight (for health reasons)--that it's more about health and less about ethics, whereas it's almost entirely about ethics and incidentally about health.
Look, I am not a proselytizing vegan. If I'm out to dinner at an Afghan restaurant, I tell my carnivorous friends that the lamb is supposed to be good. I can still discuss cheese on a theoretical level, talk about how much I love(d) Gruyere and how I would eat it if I could get perfectly 'happy' Gruyere. That said, I should be able to choose what food I serve at my own house, at my own party. Right? If you want to expose people to a particular dish, throw your own damn party.
All this aside, I'm still less annoyed by the unsolicited food offering (scratch that--the food offering that I specifically requested not be brought), and by the non-vegan nature of that offering, than by the fact that I'm the one who feels like $hit about the whole thing. Yes, I could have handled it better (should have accepted it as a gift, kept it for the guys to have for breakfast), but I was in no position at the time to optimize the politeness of my response (again, see the column, specifically the part about the frazzled hostess). Yes, M meant well. Her heart was in the right place. So was RM's when he gave me the earrings. But why do I have to feel guilty about rejecting a gift that I made clear--explicitly or implicitly--would not be welcome? Miss Manners hits the nail on the head: if you just have to bring something because you think you were raised right, that's about you. You are putting your needs above those of the host. When you give something for you, you are... giving something for you. Don't then get indignant or hurt if the recipient isn't thrilled, especially if she'd previously indicated that she didn't want what you would be giving. I'll leave you with the opening paragraphs of that column:
One might suppose that Miss Manners would be charmed by the generosity of the Gentle Reader who writes, “I hate it when someone says, ‘Don’t bring anything’ to a get-together. Is it better to honor their request, or to bring something small anyway? And if I should bring it anyway (never arrive empty-handed), do you have any suggestions?”
No, and she is not all that charmed, either. If she were not terminally polite, she would reply, “Do you apply that principle to all aspects of your social life — that No means Yes?”