HOTEL HORROR

Could you please settle an argument between my wife and I? Recently, we stayed at a four-star hotel in Bournemouth. We ate every night at the award-winning restaurant with its à la carte menu. This is where the argument starts. On the first three nights of our stay, only people staying at the hotel dined there. On the fourth evening, a two-star hotel nearby had an electrical fault and the health-and-safety people closed the building overnight. People from that establishment were put up in our hotel and they dined in this very exclusive restaurant. They arrived to eat in T-shirts, sandals and open-neck shirts. My wife says we should have had a refund because of their appalling dress code. I say we were lucky it was not us that had to evacuate our hotel. Please tell me what Mr Mills and you would do in this situation. My wife will not let it rest.

DJ, Hove

You should have relished the opportunity to parade your superior social position (worldly know-how, ability to dress comme il faut, and so on) before these lowly unfortunates. After all, as most small-minded petit-bourgeois snobs acknowledge, what is the point of occupying a higher position on the social scale if there is nobody around to notice that you are up there? (By the way, I really enjoyed your satirical solecism in the opening sentence of your letter. You really know how to capture the essence of these snobberies in detail.)

CAT CRISIS

Could you please advise on the most appropriate wine to present to my neighbour, whose cat I accidentally reversed over? Do I plump for a heavy merlot, prompting them to wallow in a deep red pool of unadulterated grief, or should I go for a lively little chablis, indicating that they need to “look sharp”, “get over it” and move on in their cat-free life?

AL, Durham

Mr Mills suggests a Romanian white would be a piquant reminder, as “it’s cat’s —”, but I think we’ll stop him there. Call me selfish, but I wouldn’t worry too much about what you give them as you are unlikely to be sharing it.

CAR DISASTER

My husband has bought a shiny new silver Porsche convertible — just the thing for this glorious weather. When we went to Waitrose in it yesterday, I saw a friend and waved to her. Husband said: “Stop. Don’t wave.” I said: “But then she’ll think I’m a stuck-up cow — and why wouldn’t I wave just because I’m in a different car than usual.” (Our usual is an elderly navy-blue Volvo.) What should I do?

CA, Cirencester

Your husband is right. You shouldn’t wave from a Porsche: everyone else hates them, and waving will only increase their simmering resentment. However, as the car is unerringly an indication of a plonker, you might want to examine your relationship with your husband more closely to see if it’s worth carrying on.

SPAT FOR DINNER

Every morning as he leaves for work, my husband asks what I’m cooking for dinner, so he has something to look forward to. Never is there any mention of looking forward to seeing me. What can I do to teach him a lesson?

JH, Ramsgate

As he is leaving for work, ask him if he will bring someone more interesting home for dinner, so you will have something to look forward to as well.

TIRED OF LIFE

I’m bored. What shall I do?

KR, Derby

I’m not surprised. Try moving to somewhere more interesting.

Send problems to: Mrs Mills, The Sunday Times, 1 Pennington Street, London E98 1ST, or mrs.mills@sunday-times.co.uk. No correspondence can be entered into

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