The Keys To The Door...
... are always in your OTHER pocket, right? Why is that?
E@L arrives at the outer door, which directly leads to the foyer where his flat is situated, with both hands full of shopping bags. He does not want to put them ALL down as he has about 6 bags in each with their handles all lined up and it would be a pain to have to realign them. He knows that his keys are in one of his pockets, but can't remember which. He also knows that he will guess wrong, and have to put all the bags down, first at the outer door, then again at his flat's door, unless he guesses right.
He takes a gamble and places the bags in his LEFT hand on the ground. He fossicks deep in the LEFT pocket of his shorts. Wallet. Fuck. He can't reach around to his RIGHT pocket because a) his pockets are cut in a funny way and b) he is too fat.
He puts down the bags from his RIGHT hand and retrieves his keys. He opens the door, places his keys back in his pocket and starts trying to align all the handles on the plastic bags, which have of course flopped down. As he does this the door swings behind him, but he senses this and sticks out his RIGHT foot behind him to stop it closing. He has four bags already in his LEFT and is balancing on one leg. He kicks the door open wide and retrieves two more bags in his LEFT hand. He tries to align the handles of the other bags with his RIGHT hand, but the double-bagged wine bottles have toppled over and he only gets the inner bag handle of one and the outer bag handle of the other. The door swings back faster this time and he just manages to jam it open. The wine bottles threaten to toppple out. He has a choice: let the door go or risk smashing the wine. He tries a flick of his toes and succeeds in removing a fair section of his big toe-nail as the door swings wide open again. He looks at his bleeding toe. He feels no pain. He picks up the remaining bags, rescueing the huge toilet paper collection which doesn't really need a bag as it has its own handle, so he holds it by this and turns... just as the door clicks shut.
At least he knows that he put the keys back into his RIGHT pocket. He puts down the wine and the toilet paper and the other bags from his RIGHT hand (he puts them down closer to the door this time) and puts his hand into his pocket to find... his phone.
Being a LEFT hander, he had changed hands with the keys to open the door and naturally (so naturally that he didn't need to think about it) placed the keys back into his LEFT pocket.
He puts down the bags from his LEFT hand and opens the door. He moves the wine bottle bags into the doorway to hold the door open. He bends to start realigning the bag handles on all the other groceries and his RIGHT foot slips in a puddle of blood from his bleeding toe giving him a start, but he manages to avoid falling, merely pulling a tendon in his groin and nearly knocking over the wine, but actually spilling the fruit out of the bag. An apple rolls into the bloodstain and sits there.
He retrieves the blood-apple, wiping it on his shirt. WHY did he do that? Now he'll have to change shirts! Why didn't he wait till he got inside and wash it under the tap?
He collects all the bags finally, gets the one with wine bottles last, allows the door to lock and he moves inside to the foyer...
Where his flat-door waits.
Looking at him...
OTHER MONKEYS SAID
Lefthanded. I'm stunned.
You didn't pick it? I thought it was obvious.
hee hee, fun link, ima steal.
The book is good too, its in Kinokuniya.