I’m not really one for social gatherings. I’m a fish out of water. I hate small talk, I’d rather get to the crux of the issue and have an in-depth conversation with someone I know than fanny about talking about jobs, schools, holidays or where they or us live. Give me a conversation on how people choose pet names or the criteria you use for choosing which toilet cubicle is the one for you. Better still, be passionate about something I’m passionate about and we’ll wax lyrical about how passionate we are. Lovely.
However, like most of us, I’m often thrust into social situations because, you know, it’s the right thing to do. Strangers are only friends you haven’t met before. Blah blah blah. My hubby is very social and he likes people to meet me. He loves a good social situation and can chat to almost anyone. He’s a good barometer for shit people really, because if they aren’t happy chatting to him, they sure as hell aren’t going to like me!
So, in the 17 years I’ve been with him I have been to many a gathering, party or social event where I’ve known very few people. Occasionally it has meant I’ve been introduced to the likes of Catherine Tate (“and this is Catherine”. “oh hi Catherine, how are you?” – like I DON’T KNOW YOU ARE!!), Chris O’Dowd and Andrew Lincoln. I should add though if you do get introduced to a famous person they do look at you like a rabbit caught in the headlights for the first 2 minutes of the conversation because they are waiting for the very next nanosecond which will define whether or not you are a nutter. Gushing about how amazing they are (which I did on one occasion with Eddie Izzard (oh the shame) only makes them look for an exit. On the whole though, I don’t get introduced to that many famous people and end up chatting to mates of mates of mates who endless droning on about their job which really doesn’t do them any favours.
It’s the goodbyes I have a big problem with. The goodbyes at the end of the evening. For the life of me I can’t quite understand why it has to happen.
A WHOLE bunch of people, some of which might be close friends and some of which most definitely aren’t and I have to go around saying goodbye to them. No thanks. I’m drunk, I’m tired, I just had a mental picture of my bed, my homing beacon is on and I want to just turn around and walk out and head off to start the journey that will eventually lead me to that lovely bed. That lovely, soft, warm bed.
Hubby has other ideas. “Oh we just can’t leave”.
“Yes we can”
“Not really. Oh well, just let me say goodbye to John. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him”.
“Ok, you do that. I’m going to the Loo”.
20 minutes later I’m standing like a plonker at the door and hubby is still chatting. He’s then intercepted by someone else. Another chat. I do the walk of shame over to him. Smile plastered on my face.
“Hi. Are we not going?”
“Yeah, just a sec, I will just say bye to Margaret and we’ll be off”.
And so it goes. Another hour can easily pass. I’m tired, I’m fed up and I just WANT TO GO HOME.
Now, when I go to a company party on my own. I get to that critical “Homing Beacon” point in the evening and literally spin around and walk off. Not a single goodbye. I had a lovely time, but its time to go. Most of the time, nobody notices. Which is fine. The next day we have a giggle about who was drunk, who snogged who, who passed out and compare when we all left. Nobody cares I didn’t say goodbye. Why would they?
Bloody goodbyes. Do you like them?