From Craig Brown
Q. As I get older I find myself more and more afflicted by dindinitis, which is probably best defined as a morbid dread of dinner parties. Within ten minutes of sitting down, I find that I am tongue-tied and so too is everyone else. Short of ‘You must give me the recipe’ or ‘we much prefer Waitrose’ or ‘Next time, you should try the B1033’, I can think of nothing to say. I don’t like to appear rude, Mary, but how can I refuse all further dinner parties without giving offence?
A. Bad dinner parties are like bad flights: one is enough to put you off for ever and start to promote a phobia. And even a good dinner party with scintillating fellow guests can be arduous if your social phobia is advanced. Actually there are perfectly good reasons for dreading these occasions — no one likes sitting upright between two strangers for three hours and then going out into the cold night to tackle the journey home — but most people are prepared to suffer for the sake of bonding and the abstract rewards which will come later.
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