What a good host never says
The polite phrases that do the most harm, and what to say instead.
The most useful things I have learned about looking after people are things not to say. Most of them sound polite. That is the problem.
“No problem.” It is meant kindly, but it puts the problem in the room. A guest who asks for a table at nine has not asked for a favour; they have asked for dinner. “Of course” says the same thing and leaves nothing behind.
“Let me check.” Sometimes it is necessary. Said too often, it tells a guest that nobody had thought of it before they did. The better habit is to find out first: the last sitting at the restaurant, the ferry’s winter timetable, whether the pharmacy opens on Sunday.
“Unfortunately.” What follows it is the only thing the guest will remember. If the boat cannot go out, say what can happen instead, and say it first. The closed road is a fact. The other road is the answer.
“As I said.” Nobody needs reminding that they missed something. They need it again, shorter.
“That’s not possible.” Some things are not. But “not possible” ends the conversation, and a host’s work is to keep it going: if not this, what would make the evening right?
A name, in the wrong room. Who else is staying, who came last week, what someone well known ordered. A host who tells you about other guests will tell other guests about you. I say nothing, about anyone, and it is the easiest promise I keep.
And the one I find hardest: “I’m tired.” Never in words, and on a good day never on the face either. Some days that takes more than others.
What a good host does say is short. Yes, when it is yes. Here is what I can do, when it is not. And more often than either, nothing at all.
Aladdin