Question #5—The Longest Question I’ve Ever Received.

Greg Witulski of The Sleeves asked the following:

The other day I was at a church social talking with a person I had just met. We were near the cookies and coffee table, so we had been snacking. As I was talking, I noticed a particle of food fly out of my mouth toward him. I didn't see where it landed, but it was large enough for us both to have noticed it. I certainly noticed it, and was about to say something and apologize, but out of embarrassment, I ignored it, and continued to talk.

For his part, he either acted like he didn't notice, or actually didn't notice, which I find hard to believe because it was fairly large and actually passed directly through a strong afternoon sunbeam as it flew through the air, for a moment bursting into illumination like a tiny meteorite. I distractedly tried to continue the conversation while my own embarrassment consumed me, and while I also couldn't help but imagine his own embarrassment, both sympathetically on my behalf, and over the soggy chunk of macadamia nut that was certainly soaking into his lapel.

With some difficulty I finally finished what I was saying, and was relieved to at last have the focus off myself so I could simply listen to him.

Well, this is where it gets complicated, because as he continued talking, another projectile came flying out of his mouth, easily four times the size of my own, streaking through the sun blindingly visible to both of us. He looked directly at it, and so did I - there was no mistaking it this time. But he said nothing, and I said nothing as well.

I'm quite sure by this point neither of us were listening to what the other was saying at all - we were simply moving our mouths in a generalized approximation of church-social banter while our minds were consumed by the awkwardness of blatantly spitting upon each other and not acknowledging it.

My question is this: Based on this experience, I have decided to heretofore avoid all uncomfortableness related to this all-too-common situation, and from now on plan to simply call out oral paratroopers with glee whenever they occur. "Whee! Did you see that thing GO? It's like the Perseids all up in here!" Do you think this is advisable behavior?

TANYA: Yes.

Question 3: On Surviving Dinner With Vampires

Joselyn Vaughn asks: I invited my neighbors for dinner and have since learned they are a family of non-vegetarian vampires. Any suggestions on how to survive the meal?

TANYA:

Dinner plans are always stressful. I mean, it’s so hard serving something everyone  will like. Add to that the additional stress of wondering if you expose your neck, if you’ll end up being the main course. When I invite non-vegetarian vampires over for dinner (it happens more than you’d think) I keep the menu varied AND I have a backup plan.

Try a menu that goes for a theme. Perhaps you’ll start with a Bloody Mary and then serve blood orange salad with beet soup. Then a rare prime rib (reserve the juices), followed by red velvet cake. Make your dinner fun and festive! Consider handing out fake vampire teeth to your other guests so you can all share a hearty laugh.

As for the backup plan, also invite one, maybe two, people that you really can’t stand. You know, that annoying person from work who’s always telling you long stories about their diverticulitis and/or menstrual cycle. Or that guy who keeps knocking on your door for money because his wife and two children are trapped in their car and they need gas and/or food and he’s been asking you for money using this same excuse for five years. Invite him. After you’re clearing the plates and tidying up, leave the vampires alone in the dining room with this annoying person. Don’t be surprised if your ‘friend’ makes a hasty departure and NEVER RETURNS AGAIN. Smile, knowing that your Vampire guests look well nourished and you are a damn fine host.