Professor seems to think class schedule just rough guideline

Dear Miss Manners: Iama full-time college student. My university has scheduled all classes so that there is a 10-minute gap between each one, giving students time to get to their next class, use the restroom, grab a coffee, etc. This is generally respected by most of my professors, who let us out when class is supposed to be over.

But I have one professor who repeatedly continues to lecture after class is supposed to be over, sometimes up to five minutes, which makes it difficult to get to my next class on time. I wouldn’t mind if this happened every once in a while for a minute or two, but it’s almost every class. Generally, students will subtly pack up their belongings when class is over to alert a professor who may have lost track of time. But this professor just ignores us and keeps lecturing.

How do I approach this without seeming rude?

I’m not late arriving to class, so I feel like keeping students after class is very disrespectful.

Gentle reader: “I am not sure that you are aware, but some of us have classes scheduled directly after this one and find it difficult to get to them if we don’t have the 10-minute buffer allotted by the university. Your lectures are always so insightful, I wouldn’t want to miss a word. But I also don’t want to get in trouble with my other professors.”

If this does not work, Miss Manners suggests that you ask the professor for a note explaining your tardiness to your other instructors. The idea of writing 73,664 separate notes will act as a deterrent from ever making you late again.

Dear Miss Manners: Is there really such a thing as rummage sale etiquette?

Here is what happened: A friend told me about a church rummage sale via text, with pictures. She wrote in capital letters, “I really love this” next to a picture of a quilt for sale. I said it was neat.

Well, we were in line for the sale to open, and she was in front of me, but she went in a direction away from the quilt. I knew where the bedding was at this yearly sale, so I got the quilt because I wanted it, too, and so did two other ladies.

She is now mad at me because she said I knew she quilted. But I had forgotten that. She asked whether our friendship was worth me getting the quilt before her. So what is the etiquette? I feel that whoever gets the item, gets the item. Is that right, even if you both want it?

Gentle reader: Yes, but yours was not exactly an innocent mistake, was it?

You learned of the quilt because of your friend’s text, and you watched her go off in what you knew was the wrong direction.

Miss Manners admits that it would have been worse had you trampled her in your haste to snatch the quilt — or hidden it when she passed by — but surely you must understand why she feels ill-used.

Dear Miss Manners: My ex-wife and I recently stretched to contribute a good deal of money to our daughter’s wedding. Is there any expectation that we should also give her a wedding present?

It never occurred to me, but my ex and I seem to be getting some shade from relatives who keep asking what we gave the happy couple as a gift. (By the way, none of this is coming from our daughter.)

I just say, “We gave them a wedding,” but now I have questions.

Gentle reader: It is sadly easy to see why otherwise perfectly behaved wedding couples get coerced into greed. Whether or not you got the couple a present is none of your relatives’ business. So it is not for their sake, but for your impeccably behaved daughter’s, that Miss Manners suggests that if you want to give the couple something, perhaps you or your ex-wife could offer a family heirloom or other sentimental item.

That it will quell the shade from your family is an added advantage — one that the rest of us know they do not deserve.

Dear Miss Manners: Could you please give me a simple answer to a rambunctious friend who gets caught up in her stories in the middle of a quiet restaurant? I don’t want to dampen the enthusiasm, just lower the volume.

Gentle reader: Write yourself into the story. It will be hard for your friend to take offense when you look guilty and say, in a loud stage whisper, “You know, I think we’re talking so loudly, people are starting to stare.”