And the beauty is that the first "Peace!" is the deepest. Once you pop that cherry, you develop a reputation, a persona as an Irish exit-er. Then people expect it. And even admire you for it. It's just a little nuance of character that becomes part of your personality. You become the person who keeps the party going, sans interruptions, by sneaking out. You never get convinced to "stay for one more" and then end up regrettably having five. You're never stuck with an awkward half-hug, or a straggler that wants to come with you, or second thoughts that give in to FOMO-induced fears.
It has nothing to do with being an introvert. Or an apathetic jerk-off. Or the kind of guy who lacks moral fiber. It's the opposite, really.
Goodbyes are a bummer. To paraphrase the great Ella Fitzgerald, "Everytime we say goodbye, everyone at the bar dies a little," and no one wants to infect a casual, supposedly fun get-together with a microdose of death.
And that's why I don't say them.
In fact, I'm leaving right now.