For those of you who don’t know, ghosting is leaving a party – or a relationship, but that’s a whole other list – without saying goodbye. I’ve been doing it for years. Now I hear it’s catching on in the mainstream.
By Scott King
Slipping out the front door for once and sending a lovely thank you text to your hostess on your way to the car and the next event. There’s an etiquette to it, there’s an art form to it, and there are also pros and cons. Here they are.
I hate gay goodbyes.
Don’t you hate that awkward moment when you know you really need to leave a party for whatever reason, but there are 12 people within 10 feet of you that you know their first and last name?
At this point, if you want to leave conspicuously, you have to say goodbye and hug and kiss every single one of those fabulous people. Who has the time? Also, probably half of them you didn’t really speak to you at the party, but you still have to say, “Oh my gosh. I love you. It’s good to see you.” With feeling.
Nothing’s hotter than having someone miss you. Oh my God, where did he go? And if someone texts to ask where you went, and they don’t need something from you like money or booze or a ride, that means they really really really really really want you. At least as a friend.
Leave the tender moment alone.
Have you ever had one of those moments where you totally click with someone in line for the bathroom or a drink or leaning against a wall? If this happens and it’s jamming, leave immediately.
Pretend like someone just called you on your phone and you need to answer it outside the door. Then run. Go get a drink on 10th Street, then come back to the party 50 minutes later. Sometimes ghosts return. You’re welcome.
Where’s the party?
There’s always something better. If there’s a gaggle of gays across the room that are going somewhere else that sounds fabulous, quietly get your coat and join them as they are filing out the door.
Say, “Yeah I’m going to that party too that sounds great see you there.” That’s not really ghosting that’s more like caboosing. I think I may have just invented that. Again, you’re welcome.
The man that got away.
The night is bitter. The stars have lost their glitter. The room grows colder. Suddenly, you realize that it may not have been you that got away, but that cute shy guy standing in the corner who was a friend of Jeff’s but seemed totally unattached.
Damn! I should have talked to him more. We would have been so happy together.
Good things come to those who wait. I mean really, you’ll know when the party is over. There will be eight people left, and you’ll have a decent conversation and you might actually develop a friendship with someone you’ve been a gay acquaintance with for years.
And everybody who was dipping to the next bar will be at the next bar. You can meet them up or just go home. Those Ally McBeal reruns are not going to watch themselves.
Get over yourself
Suck it up and be a polite, mature gay person. It can be done. Stop thinking with your dick or with your lonely, lonely, pink heart and just be.
As Ellen DeGeneres said almost 20 years ago, you are beautiful, and we cannot wait to meet you. So have another drink.
It’ll give me time to think …