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In the opening post of this series,
I described an ideal dinner party scenario: After taking their fill of
food, drink, and amusing conversation, host and guest alike parted ways
with the most pleasant of tastes in their mouths—a nip of cognac or
Grand Marnier and perhaps a bit of quality chocolate. That those flavors
lingered on the palate instead of less savory ones—acrid awkwardness,
bitter confusion and indigestion-inducing shame, for example—resulted
from the successful execution of one of the most difficult moves in the
choreography of entertaining: saying goodbye.
After we instructed you in the ways of the well-executed arrival,
many of you wrote in expressing trepidation regarding the other end of
the evening, that inevitable point (unless, perhaps, you are
entertaining in Barcelona in your early 20s, in which case, feel free to
pasar de todo)
in the festivities, usually between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m., when it becomes
time for them to end. As one of you so eloquently put it, how do you
politely “tell people after a dinner party to get the fuck out if they
won’t leave?”
Well, speaking first of dinner parties, you might try that exact
phrase; I actually often take a (less profane) jokey-honesty tack and
announce, during a lull in the after-dinner conversation, that it is
“time for you all to get out of my house. Goodnight!” And research shows
that I am in good company, as this forum commenter
demonstrates: “My stepfather holds up a needlepoint pillow (which my
mother made a few years back) which says ‘Goodbye’ on it. Works like a
treat.”
But, of course, such wryness is not appropriate for all occasions,
nor do all hosts wish to be so brusque. Traditionally, a hostess gently
signaled that it was time to collect your coat by remarking on the time,
starting to clear the table, or inquiring about her guests’
transportation needs. The rituals of a standard dinner service also help
keep everyone on schedule—if coffee and after-dinner drinks have been
served, guests should expect to leave within an hour at most, ideally at
the natural waning of the conversation.
If these soft communiqués are ignored, more forceful gestures include serving cold water, turning on the mood-killing overhead lights
and/or cutting the music. (Whatever you do, do not open more wine or
liquor if you truly wish to bring things to a close; anecdotally
speaking, this seems to be the single biggest mistake struggling hosts
make, especially when tipsy guests request it. If you are trying to be
firm, booze will never help.) These methods, along with suggesting that
the group move to a public establishment or warning everyone that your
building or neighborhood has noise restrictions, are also probably the
most effective for a larger party situation in which it is difficult to
communicate your desires to everyone at once. Unless they have already
expired on your couch, your sticky guests should get the hint that you’d
now like to retire to your own bedroom in peace.
You might also keep in mind this lesson that my partner and I have,
as entertainers of diverse acquaintance, had to learn the hard way:
There are some people who are not yet equipped for even informal
civilized events, and it is OK to exclude them until they get it
together. Your home is not a bar; if you find yourself having to expel
guests at 4 a.m. like a common bouncer, you may need to make some
adjustments to your contact book the following morning.
Now, thus far, we’ve spoken of what a host can do to wind things
down, but guests of dinner parties and larger gatherings obviously have
their part to play as well. First, always keep in mind that your host
has almost certainly been preparing for your visit for a solid few hours
or even an entire day with cooking, cleaning, and decorating before you
arrive. You may feel ready for a Big Night, but they will more likely
be ready to call it one around the witching hour. Then, watch for the
following cues: no more bottles are being opened or the hosts are
putting the libations away; dishes are being cleared or light cleaning
attempted; conversation is lagging and people are eyeing the clock; it
is a weeknight (regardless of your personal routine, remember that most
people like to get some sleep); you yourself are falling asleep, and
have not been invited as an overnight guest; your hosts are holding open
the door and screaming at you to please God go home. If any of these
signals appear in the field of your senses, gracefully and with great
gratitude take your leave.
As with whipping cream, there is an ideal time to stop, and a point
beyond which things curdle. But with a dash of attention, a sprinkle of
forthrightness, and a dollop of self-control, all parties can come to
that best of conclusions—a happy ending.
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