As I opened the front door to walk to work, I remem­bered that Aaron is pick­ing me up for lunch today, so I thought I should check to see if my wal­let was in my left back pocket (where it always is). The thing is, I always put a wad of mois­tur­izer in my left palm so that I can lock my door with my right hand with­out get­ting my keys all greasy, then rub it in while walking.

So I reached with my right hand to pad my pocket and see if it was there, but feel­ing a bit stiff from the weather and the morn­ing, I had to stretch with a bit of force and momentum.

Exactly at that moment, my neigh­bours came out of their house. We greeted each other, and after repeat­edly refus­ing their offers to drive me to work on such a chilly day, we went our sep­a­rate ways.

Then I real­ized that since I hadn’t com­pletely stepped out of my door frame at that point, they prob­a­bly saw me check­ing for my wal­let with­out under­stand­ing what I was doing, and thought I was doing some strange cross-body back-reaching ass-slapping ritual.