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Don’t Tell Them Goodbye
It’s not often that I read something at Slate and say, “Rat own!” But this guy pretty much nails it, even if he doesn’t go quite far enough in my opinion: Don’t Say Goodbye.
He advocates a thing called “ghosting”:
Ghosting (aka “the Irish goodbye, the French exit, and any number of other vaguely ethnophobic terms)”refers to leaving a social gathering without saying your farewells. One moment you’re at the bar, or the house party, or the Sunday morning wedding brunch. The next moment you’re gone. In the manner of a ghost.
Back in my more youthful years, I was a master of drunken ghosting. I’d be at the bar, over-imbibing, then go to the bathroom and, while standing there, think to myself, “I’ve had enough. Time to go.” I’d then leave without announcement and walk the two blocks or two miles to my home. I thought it was my “thing,” but I read years later in Modern Drunkard Magazine that it’s a common magic vanishing act pulled off by drunks all over the land (alas, I couldn’t find that article at MDM while writing this post).
Anyway, the Slate writer says ghosting should be acceptable, even if you’re not drunk:
