There are those among us who can pull it off effortlessly. Their timing is impeccable. Their moves minimal, graceful, effective.

While the rest of us fumble and stammer and shuffle our feet, they’re up and out, clean and clear, like wily convicts slipping through an undetected tunnel to their freedom.

How do you leave a local party gracefully? Have you found a way to avoid or at least minimize the multiple rounds of goodbyes? The kissing of every auntie and pseudo-auntie? The forced compliments of potluck dishes that weren’t actually very tasty? The “sorry we didn’t get a chance to catch up” exchanges with people you had been actively avoiding the whole evening?

Some people leave without saying goodbye yet manage to do it without causing offense. A 2013 article in Slate discussed “ghosting,” otherwise called the “Irish Goodbye,” “French Exit,” “British Leave” and other somewhat derogatory references to nationality and the way in which people disappear from social gatherings with or without settling the check or thanking the host. The piece made the point that leaving without calling attention to oneself is actually a courtesy to all involved. It means not having to seek out the hosts and interrupt their conversation. It means not pointing out that the evening is growing late or lame. It avoids the tidal nature of some goodbyes where five families catch the wave of one departing guest and suddenly a huge group of people flees at once.

Foremost, the trick is in timing. You can’t stand up and start your exit when there’s a lull in the action. That’s most people’s mistake. You have to leave when the mood is high and the party is jumping. When the guests are focused on something else, that’s when to head toward the door.

If you didn’t come alone, you have to work out a signal with the rest of your crew.

The signal has to be subtle. Dad jingles the car keys in his pocket. Mom leans over to her youngest and whispers, “Find your slippers.” Maybe there’s a code word.

Once you’re up, you can’t falter. If someone spots you and calls you back with a, “Oh! You folks going already?” you are sunk. Keep walking toward the door. Maybe throw a wave over your shoulder, but do not stop. Do not fib by saying you’re just going to the store for more ice and then never come back. Just go.

Most important is to make sure your host doesn’t feel slighted. This is a before-and-after move. You have to thank them profusely when you first get there and send a mahalo note afterward. Do not take home the leftover dry aku you brought. Consider that an offering.

Some people don’t mind the time-honored Hawaii tradition of the seemingly endless goodbyes. Sometimes the best interactions happen in the hours when you’re slowly inching toward the door. But if you secretly hate having to run the gantlet of goodbying, there is a way to get away. Just go.

Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com.