If the answer to any of the above is no (other than number five, that one is 40% a joke), then I don’t bother. I just exit the conversation.
I’ve tested a lot of exit strategies over the years. “Is that mum calling me? *crickets* it is! Sorry, got to go!” and “oh shit I left the oven on!” are classics. Usually though, I just down my drink and excuse myself to get another and never return.
But this year, I’m revolutionising the art of the hasty exit.
This year, I have the greatest idea for an exit strategy anyone has ever had.
This year, Uncle Ron can get in the fucking sea, I’m not buying his bullshit.
This year I have a plan.
It came to me at 3am last night, as I was staring at the ceiling, listening to the alternating snores of my Boyfriend and my cat (fun fact, the cat is louder,) stressing about all the terrible conversations I might be subjected to this Christmas. That’s when the perfect idea came to me.
I could borrow plots from romance novels to use as exit lines!