The Onion reports:

Angry Girlfriend has Trouble Storming Out of Rotating Restaurant

She has my sympathy. I'm terrible at storming out. I've hardly ever done it and not for years. The problem is I don't know how to flounce. Flouncing works best with long, straight hair and mine is short and wavy. You can fling a pashmima round your shoulders if you've got one, but I'm not a pashmima person. And I can't flare my nostrils. I can wiggle my ears, but that's no use in a flouncing or storming situation.  And then there's the business of tripping up on your way out, or, as has happened to me twice, as you storm out of the door the handle finds its way up your sleeve and hauls you back in. Then you think it's your boyfriend grabbing you so he can beg you to stay, but he's just laughing at you or doing the crossword. 

When I was new to London, following a row with my then boyfriend,  I managed to storm out of a pub successfully and headed off down the road in high dudgeon. Then I realised I didn't know where I was going, so I had to turn round and go back. And it's difficult to keep up the momentum once you've done that. By the time I got back to the pub I'd totally run out of storm steam, and we had a nice drink together instead.

I'm probably too old for storming out these days. I think it was Lynn Truss who said: "I can't run away to start a new life - it's Wheelie Bin Day."