There are things and behaviors in the world that should have a name beyond their description. They linger blurring and elusive under the layers of your mind until someone gives it a name. They tell you about it as a recurring thing that they too have encountered and it comes into sharp focus.
There is a thing called the Irish Good-bye. An Irish good-bye is where you get up from a social situation and walk out without telling anyone where you are going.
Good-bye can be a long and involved process. Good-bye can be a painful process. Or a lovely one. Certain things won't get expressed until you are leaving. They don't occur to a person to say or the timing just isn't right until then. Parting can be in its way inspirational and motivational.
But sometimes you just want to leave. You need to and without ceremony. I have had a few such occasions recently and now I know what to call them.
The Irish Good-bye. It does not involve leprechauns, whiskey or potatoes ... well ... maybe sometimes leprechauns and whiskey but rarely also potatoes.
