“Josephine caught my eye and gave me a signal we’d used for years to indicate that one of us had to leave. The signal was mouthing the words “I have to leave” and pointing at the door.”
~Lemony Snicket
I saw this quote the other day and it got me to thinking…I’m freakin’ Josephine.
When stuck at a painfully boring event, like the college graduation of the son of your husband’s boss, any party that starts with the word THEME, most New Year’s Eves, or any occasion where there is no alcohol served, how do you signal that you’ve had enough?
What charades do you employ to make your escape without seeming like a complete and total ass?
Do you discuss it with your companion ahead of time?
Do you have hand gestures?
Safe Words?
Back in the day a certain boyfriend and I employed the simple gun-to-the-head technique which consisted of basically putting the point of your index finger to your temple and pulling the imaginary trigger. If the food was particularly ghastly, which was often the case since we were all under thirty (think melted Velveeta cheese), we added a dramatic flair with eye rolls to heaven.
If we just couldn’t stand to breathe the smoke filled air for even one more minute, the trigger pull was accompanied by sound effects.
I would pass him at the makeshift bar set up in the bathtub (or at the keg), point the finger at my head.
Boom!
He’d get the message and within five minutes we were on our way to In-N-Out.
Over the years, my sister and I have taken this to another level.
We’ve become Bad Party Mercenaries.
When we catch each other’s eye at some bullshit obligatory event that we both tried to get out of—but couldn’t—we reach into our purses for the imaginary grenade we brought with us—pull the pin out with our teeth (you know, like you do), and throw it toward the biggest blowhard in the room, saving those around him from one more minute of torture.
I suppose it’s a humanitarian act. We should both get a medal.
When shit gets real and it looks like the madness will never end, we also have an imaginary bazooka which we’ve been known to pull out of thin air, put up on our shoulder, pull the two hand grips down and back and BLOW THE PLACE DOWN.
BOOM! (Our cheeks blow up like a blowfish because bigger weapons need better sound effects).
Then we burst out laughing with snorts and guffaws and make a run for the cheese dip.
Every event has an implied “It’s safe to leave and not look like an idiot” marker.
You’re not supposed to leave a bridal shower until she’s opened all the presents and is sporting the “gift bow hat.” (Insert dramatic eye roll here.)
It is considered bad taste to leave a graduation until they hand out the diplomas.
The thing is they leave that task until the very end and it can take many, many hours in the hot sun waiting for your friend’s kid, R. Ziskin to walk up to the stage and shake hands.
Truth be told, I’ve thrown many a grenade before he ever throws his cap in the air.
At weddings, you’re supposed to wait until after they cut the cake.
I have been known to risk ridicule and leave prior to the cake cut because the band sucked, the bride and groom were drunk and the cake was white on white. (What? Why?)
These days I mostly sneak out (with snacks in my pockets), after saying my goodbyes to the hosts. (My husband makes me).
So, tell me. Do you guys adhere to all of the party etiquettes? Are you the last to leave…or the first?
What’s your silent signal?
I won’t be mad if you want to steal our bazooka idea. (It’s an acquired skill. We’re thinking of doing a YouTube tutorial).
Carry on,
xox
