Dear Sordid Tales: I am a male in my late 20s who was recently jilted after a six-year engagement. Now that I’m single again, I’m not interested in anything serious. However, I’m not interested in being cruel or deceptive, either.
Some of you may have read my last column, about how, on a flight to upstate New York for the holidays, I found myself on board a three-baby plane. That was a horror-show, to be sure, but what happened the following night, on the nearly freezing evening before Christmas, was worse.
For those who don’t know, the Irish Exit—also known as The French Leave, The English Goodbye, The Irish Goodbye and ghosting—refers to a departure from a party, a bar or some other gathering without announcement.