Miss Manners: I invited them for drinks and they were still here hours later

DEAR MISS MANNERS: It seems that more people are now issuing invitations to “come for drinks” in the early evening, with no plans for dinner to follow.

We have come to enjoy this type of socializing, and have extended similar invitations.

I would like Miss Manners to clarify the proper amount of time these get-togethers should last.

I have always assumed an hour, or 90 minutes at most. However, as hosts, we have had people stay beyond that, and as guests, we have been urged to remain longer, as well.

I never want to overstay my welcome, nor do I want my dinner in the warming drawer to dry out. At the same time, I do not want to appear to “drink and run” by leaving too soon.

If it were a cocktail party, the invitation would likely say “Come for cocktails from 5:30 to 7,” but that feels a bit awkward when inviting just one couple. I would appreciate your guidance to being both a better host and guest!

GENTLE READER: In the heyday of cocktail parties, it was no secret that guests who went after the munchies could skip dinner. There was always a soft murmur going on, with one half of a couple telling the other half not to expect a meal at home after the party.

To avoid excessive lingering, the closing hour — not a standard feature of other invitations — was, as you note, stated explicitly.

So the first rule for just one couple is not to spoil their dinner appetites. No heavy hors d’oeuvres! Maybe bowls of nuts?

Ninety minutes to two hours, the expected time to linger at a cocktail party, is also reasonable for “just drinks.” In any case, one should not stay beyond the common dinner hour of 7 p.m., even if urged otherwise — unless it is in the form of, “Let’s all go somewhere for dinner.”

All but the terminally obtuse should note that when food and drinks are no longer being offered, it is time to go. But you seem to have encountered such folks.

The next step is to stand up while talking to them. Eventually, they will have to pull themselves up. And you may thank them for having come. In stubborn cases, you could add, “We hope to see you again soon” while moving slowly toward the door.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: You must be really happy that the secretary of transportation has told us poor wretches who fly economy to dress up for the privilege. Hats and gloves, naturally. I have my grandfather’s old fedora, but my wife might have to buy new white gloves.

But why stop at the Perfect 1950s? Shouldn’t red-eye flights require tuxedos and evening gowns, like in the time of the great ships?

GENTLE READER: Yes, let’s use those ships for comparison rather than the 1950s, to which Miss Manners ascribes considerably less charm and glamour than you seem to.

Those who dressed up were traveling in opulent settings, with luxurious food and entertainment. But the great ocean liners also had steerage class, in which passengers were kept in crowded, primitive accommodations with minimal rations. They were not expected to dress up.

Which part of the ship most resembles today’s air travel?

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