DEAR MISS MANNERS: I don’t know how to deal with the rude comments I occasionally get from restaurant waitstaff about how I eat -- specifically when I eat quickly, or eat everything on my plate.

I’m not overweight, and I’m male, so they may feel it’s OK to tease me when they probably wouldn’t do so with an overweight customer or a woman (as I’ve always been taught that it’s the height of rudeness to comment even obliquely about a woman’s weight).

So given my appearance, coupled with the “We’re all friends here” attitude you get in most restaurants, it feels like servers consider me fair game for this ostensibly innocent joshing.

But to me, it feels like they’re saying I eat like a pig, which I find both embarrassing and infuriating. Just this morning, when a server came to clear my table at breakfast, she paused to look at my plate and said approvingly, “Very good!” as if I were a child. I’ve also gotten, “You must have been hungry,” and “Wow, that was fast!”

For the record, yes, I do tend to eat fast, and yes, I do tend to eat everything on my plate. But that’s not the server’s business, and it’s certainly not appropriate for them to comment on how I eat the food I’m paying for. But I never know how to respond to these comments in a dignified way that also lets them know that their comment is inappropriate and hurtful.

GENTLE READER: You’re not all friends there. They are paid to wait on you, not to critique your eating habits. But yes, Miss Manners knows that the boundaries are often violated.

The tactful way to counter intrusive teasing is to take it seriously. “I’m sorry -- am I going too fast for you?” and “Good? Yes, the food was good. May I have the check, please?”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am hosting an Easter event, and my boyfriend and I have an etiquette conflict. I want to include gift bags with handwritten “thank you for attending” notes, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea.

Allow me to expand: We host an annual Easter celebration. The duration of the party is from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. Guests are instructed to bring a side dish, and we provide the main entree. Our activities, besides the food, include an egg hunt (for children and adults), an egg race (for children only) and egg decorating (also for children).

GENTLE READER: It is not Miss Manners’ job to discourage the writing of letters of thanks. Considering how often she has to chastise people for not doing so, it makes her dizzy.

But the gentleman is right that there is something not quite right about hosts writing to thank their guests for attending. It is fine for them to do so as the guests leave. But the next day is the time to reflect on what a great party the hosts threw, and the hosts themselves can hardly do that.

If the hosts beat them to expressing gratitude, it seems like prompting. And for occasions associated with presents -- for which the hosts should certainly express thanks -- it will seem like dunning.

Besides, although you are organizing this event, you and he are not the sole hosts. Requesting food donations means it is a cooperative party.

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

DEAR MISS MANNERS: At what point am I allowed to adopt an angry tone -- and drop the “please” -- after repeated requests to the person behind me in line for “social distancing at 6 feet, please”?

In my experience, people back up for a short time, and then creep back up next to me. Repeatedly. I have to admit that the other day, I said loud enough for others to hear, “This is the fifth time I’ve had to ask you for the social distancing the CDC is telling us all to do. What is wrong with you?”

I finally got the reaction I needed. I’m so exasperated, I’m thinking of carrying a yardstick with me wherever I go and using it like a sword to fend off intruders.

GENTLE READER: No, no, no. You would only end up hitting someone with that yardstick, adding violence into a difficult enough situation.

Even before the advent of the virus, Miss Manners noticed that people often turn vicious in grocery lines. (Other lines, too, but especially in grocery stores. Perhaps, as their mothers told them, they are acting like that because they are hungry.)

And customer-to-customer corrections rarely succeed. To do so, these not only have to be polite, but also offer a face-saving way for the offender to retreat. Perhaps, “I don’t know if you heard me, but I’m worried about our sticking to the new rules about keeping distances.” Said loudly, it should encourage everyone in line to back up.

Far better to invoke third-party authority. You could ask the cashier to remind the entire line to keep to the spaces. But that, too, would have to be repeated. Please suggest to the store’s management the practice that some countries have started: placing tape at intervals on the floor to mark the proper spacing.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am familiar with your rule about not pointing out other people’s rudeness to them, but in regard to our own personal advent of coronavirus, I wonder if you could suggest a polite way to remind others to cover their noses and mouths when sneezing, coughing and/or yawning.

As you know, in addition to this being an etiquette concern, it is a health concern, and there must be some way to make this point without being offensive.

GENTLE READER: Give out tissues, instead of reprimands. This would require you to carry an extra supply, but Miss Manners reminds you that it is not an expensive form of philanthropy.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have sometimes been in public bathrooms at restaurants, theaters, etc., and seen people come out of their stall and walk out of the bathroom without washing their hands.

I find this disgusting at the best of times, but with the heightened attention during the COVID-19 outbreak, I am more concerned than offended. What can be done in a situation like this?

GENTLE READER: Reforming strangers only works when it assumes mistaken goodwill -- for example, saying, “Excuse me, the back of the line is back there” to someone who had every intention of breaking in.

Miss Manners would be extremely grateful to anyone who can think of such a way to say, “I’ve been watching your bathroom habits, and they are disgusting.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What are the acceptable alternatives to the handshake? I prefer the namaste.

GENTLE READER: For Miss Manners, the silver lining in this cloud that hangs over us all is the demise of meaningless hugging and kissing. It bothers her as a cheapening of demonstrations of true affection. And before the coronavirus, she heard from Gentle Readers who were worried about the ordinary health aspects of close contact -- even including handshakes -- with strangers in church, and with other people they hardly know.

So -- the namaste, if you prefer, or just the slight bow that goes with it. But as the idea underneath is to show peaceful intentions, surely a simple smile and nod -- from the proper distance -- would suffice.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: With so much public attention now focused on the spread of coronavirus, it’s a good opportunity to remind people to cough/sneeze into their SLEEVE, NOT their HAND, to avoid contaminating everything/everyone they subsequently touch with that hand.

Happily, this is what kids have been taught to do in school, but for many of us adults, this means overcoming a long-ingrained reflexive habit we grew up with. I assure you, though, that everyone will benefit, and will appreciate their thoughtfulness. This will help in both reducing the spread of many illnesses (not just coronavirus) and the risk of catching them.

GENTLE READER: Well -- as long as those who sneeze into their elbows do not also practice the popular injunction to bump elbows as a substitute for shaking hands.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Just like in Georgian times, when the rich used to display their wealth by having expensive items such as pineapples on display, I am careful to have delicate arrangements of items that modestly reflect our affluence to our guests.

In light of current events and the desirability of certain items, I was wondering how many toilet rolls one may have on display before it gets gauche? I was thinking of a nice pyramid, maybe 10. Or I could limit it to six and use the extra space to exhibit our plentiful supply of antibacterial hand wash.

GENTLE READER: Need Miss Manners remind you that with riches go the obligation to help those less fortunate?

So by all means, enjoy the sight of your piled-up wealth -- as a prelude to distributing it to those who are less fortunate.

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

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have one of those camera doorbells on my front door. Consequently, I can see the comings and goings of a good friend of mine who walks my dogs a few times a week while I’m at work. (She has a key to my house; the camera begins to record and sends a live feed to my phone when it detects motion.)

The trouble is that she doesn’t always walk my dogs. I know this because the doorbell camera doesn’t show her doing so. She comes over, but just ... hangs out. Sometimes she does homework, using my printer and Wi-Fi for assignments, and sometimes she does laundry.

I’ve freely offered these things to her, but I am paying her to walk my dogs, as she’s going through a rough patch financially. I trust her in my home, and just think she gets a little lazy, but I still feel taken advantage of.

I know it sounds sheepish, but I don’t know how to say anything to her about this: I don’t want her to think I’m spying on her with the camera, but I also don’t want to pay her to come over for an hour for her own purposes.

GENTLE READER: And the dogs are also too shy to complain, Miss Manners gathers. If the consequences of their confinement are not obvious, you might work the fact that you have a doorbell camera into an unrelated conversation. As in, “Did you know that the food delivery man often sneaks a breadstick from our order? We have one of those front door cameras and can see everything.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We are a male/male couple, one in his late 50s and one in his early 60s, planning a small wedding with approximately 25-30 guests. Because of our ages and the fact that we have both lived fairly full and enjoyable lives, we do not need anything, and would prefer our guests not incur the expense of providing gifts. Heeding your advice, we are creating no registry, shopping lists or any similar shakedowns. Nonetheless, we are faced with the telephone call inquiries as to what we would like as gifts.

The correct answer is “nothing,” but we don’t want to come across as rude or dismissive. How do you suggest we answer these inquiries?

GENTLE READER: “Oh, please, we really do not need anything. But we’ve always admired your exquisite taste.”

Miss Manners makes a distinction between dictating what one should be given, and offering some very general assistance when asked. Or getting others to do so if they are approached.

Trusted friends might discreetly speak of your general taste (“I think that Fred and Arthur like art deco”). Even you can provide helpful clues: “Where did you say you got that etched glass bowl on display in your kitchen?” Of course, such hints should be about things that they can buy within a reasonable price range. Try not to admire their sofa.

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