After years of suffering through shin-digs for longer than I should have, I’ve finally got “leaving parties” down to a science. All it takes is a slight lull in conversation, a big laugh, or a loud cough, and I can “I’d better get going” my way out of anything. So, when my college friend hosted a housewarming and things started dying down, I knew the time was upon me to high tail it out of there. Right as I opened my mouth to say, “Would you look at the time!” someone else beat me to the punch.
Well, shit. Now I have to stay another 20 goddamn minutes.
Leaving a party is kind of like cooking a steak: You’ve got to do it the right way or people will throw things. The most important rule is that you have to leave as a lone wolf. Take anyone with you and you risk seeming like you’re coordinating the downfall of the party; go with a whole group and you’ll leave your party host standing there, cold and afraid, wondering, “What did I do wrong?” When everyone is on the edge of leaving, a delicate dance commences.
These were the thoughts running through my brain when Brian, a friend of my friend’s, slipped out right when I wanted to leave. How could he be so inconsiderate? If I leave now, a mass exodus will ensue. He could have waited for me to go first or, perhaps, have left 20 minutes ago so I could go now, too. I shot daggers at his back and he gleefully skipped away, leaving me to make mindless conversation about my friend’s new baby. Gross! I hate babies.
The truth is, I have nothing left to talk about with any of these people, and I’m frightened. Me and Rachel from the office have exhausted every topic there is – from the weather to religion to Young Sheldon on CBS – and I don’t think I have the stamina to last the 20 minutes that are necessary so as not to insult the host. I scramble to remember anything I can discuss to make the time pass by and yell, “Geraldo!” aloud involuntarily.
We spend the next 19 minutes talking about Geraldo Rivera, host of the eponymous show Geraldo from 1987 to 1999. At the perfect moment, I say, “Well, I’d best be going,” and just like that, I’m free. I will never be returning to this place, but I will be hunting down the guy who left 20 minutes ago.
