I could do a mean serpentine to avoid helpful salespeople. If a stranger in a store said, “Excuse me, miss,” in a loud voice, I would pick up the pace, but only a little, so the person might think I didn’t hear. It wasn’t a performance for my friends, either. Work deadlines and early-morning dental appointments could be maneuvered to supersede dinner parties. I even made my own zines, which, if you don’t know, were paper calendars filled with “events” that made it possible to avoid commitments to other events. You had to play a careful game of phone tag chicken, returning calls at times of day that you were pretty sure the other person wasn’t home.

I left the party early, too, at the same time as the host’s elderly relatives.īack then, you had to let your phone ring to avoid invitations to concerts or sporting events. I read the shampoo bottles - that’s how hardcore I was. Back then, there weren’t even phones to read while I perched on the bathtub.

After they finally excused themselves for a refill, which they definitely earned, I spent long breaks in the home’s only bathroom. I watched the desperation build on the person’s face to escape. I answered polite questions with ungenerous, mono-syllabic answers. When I did have to go to them, I hung in a corner and talked to one person the whole time. The words of my mouth were “I’m sick” or “I have to take care of my kid.” I was so socially distant that there was no chance I was actually sick or had any kids. I first got into doing it when I lived in Europe. I mean, I’ve never been into major labels. Never taste, never waste.Back when I started “social distancing,” there wasn’t even a term for it.Shoot em up, shoot em down, sh, sh shoot up.It's the thrill I feel my heart beat race.Yeah, I can feel them right in the air, tonight.Cause the moments gone a blinking of time.I just wanna feel the wind blow, in my face,.

I was doing it for the thrill lyrics