Q. As a radio producer one of the most infuriating – and surprisingly common – things people ask is: ‘When will you be a presenter?’ Can you help with a withering response that lets them know I don’t feel like a failure, but have willingly chosen a completely different job?

— M.G., London SE1

A. You might reply: ‘Oh God no, I’d hate to do that but … [assume a sympathetic facial expression] why do you ask? Would you like to be a presenter? 

Q. My best friend lives in Australia, and visits annually to see friends and family. Every time we meet she has invited along so many other people she wants to catch up with that we never manage to engage in any kind of decent conversation. Then she always calls me from the airport bemoaning the fact that ‘we haven’t seen each other properly’. This year, how can I ensure we have some time alone without causing any trouble? 

— J.B., Pimlico

A. Next time, get in early by suggesting you give a surprise lunch party for her at your house. Let her assume she will be working off a payload of mutual friends at this event. Then make sure you only invite people who you know will either be at work, away or flaky. When she turns up to find it is just the two of you, explain that when, by a weird coincidence, none of the other people you invited were able to make this particular day, you concluded that fate must be conspiring to ensure that the two of you could enjoy quality time. Your friend will be secretly relieved that someone else made the decision to take the ‘bulk processing’ option off the menu. 

Q. How do we discourage our family from giving us books about books? My husband and I live in a house which has been described as ‘a library with bedrooms’. The thousands of books we have carefully collected and catalogued over the decades are both precious and useful. Because we ‘like books’, family members frequently give us books about books – book-collecting, bookshops, book lists. We find them gimmicky. How do we persuade them to give us book vouchers instead? 

— M.P., Unley, South Australia

A. Put the relevant books on a single shelf – making sure that the shelf is the right size to fill it completely. Point them out with relish to your friends and say: ‘Look at all these lovely books about books. We’ve so loved collecting them and being given them. Now we’ve filled this shelf we’ve decided we simply can’t fit in any more on the subject. You’ve given us some of these lovely books. Now that we’re full up here, if you ever feel like giving us anything again, we are still book-mad. But if it’s horrible having to choose we would love a voucher…’

The post Dear Mary: How do I get my friend to make time to see me alone? appeared first on The Spectator.