Nobody Likes a Tattletale

Dear Franz,

Recently I was staying at a guest house. During evening cocktails, a guest kicked over a couple very expensive decorations and proceeded to move them behind some gift wrapped packages. The next morning, the host was very disappointed to find the broken items. The person who did the deed did not confess to the damage. Those of us who saw the situation were not sure if we should tell on the other guest or tell that guest to confess to the deed. We did not know that guest. What should we have done?


Well, I guess that would depend on whether or not it was a friend. I think that's just common sense isn't it? If you like your friend, don't tell. If you like the host better than the person who broke the thing, then tell on them. Perhaps you like both equally and you're torn. In that case, I would perhaps take the blame yourself... Just kidding! I would just "accidently" tell on the guest during dinner conversation and pretend all parties were already aware. Offer to pay for the item yourself, even though you have no intention on doing so. You'll score points with both friends, and neither of them will surely ever accept your money. If they do accept your money, than they are not friends. I would imagine that's what insurance is for!

Funny story goes with that. As many parties as I go to, one is bound to break something, or fall on top of something. Yes, it even happens to the crown heads! And I imagine that items broken in my circles far exceed the cost of something broken in yours. But nevertheless, it happens. And one time, I slipped on Donatella's train at a party. I slipped, grabbed hold of the nearest thing to me, which was: one of those silly Marc Quinn "Blood Heads." (A bust of the artist comprised on nine pints of his own frozen blood). Well, it exploded into a million little pieces and those little pieces just seemed to melt faster than you could imagine! Everybody scattered everywhere! It was awful. Donatella tells me, "that's going to cost you a fortune!" I merely laughed and said, "No, bitch. That's going to cost YOU a fortune." I mean, it was her dress! We went on and on back in forth until we were told that it was insured and we need not worry. That was a fiasco and quite a mess, too!

But if I had just knocked the Blood Head down without the help of her dress, I would hope that no one would've told on me. After all, it was insured.