Cry, the Gloved Country
by Will Bailey
Nice hands. This is a compliment that only lands well in certain situations. Say this during a sporting event, and you will be high-fived. Say this during a thorough pat down by a TSA agent, and you will be high-detained indefinitely. Yes, hand propriety is very real, which explains why so many people wear gloves. Why else would anyone of sound mind voluntarily render their hands utterly useless with a pair of gloves, if not for pure shame of displaying their naked paws in public? To keep their hands warm? Nonsense! Because, really, the moment you put on gloves you become a fumbling doofus. You can barely hold car keys, let alone catch the greased watermelon I’ve just thrown at you while yelling, “Think fast glove-lover!” I blame the glove makers, who continue to manufacture gloves with only one function: turn humans into reptiles. Seriously, have you ever watched somebody wearing gloves open a bottle of soda? It’s like watching a chameleon try to needle-point. The worst offender is the Your Hands Are Now Beluga Whales model (the gloves that shove four fingers into one massively bulbous compartment and your thumb into an afterthought of a flipper). We should take all the locks out of our prisons under the condition that inmates must wear these travesties on their hands at all times. “Oh, by all means, the exit is right over here. All you have to do is turn this highly polished doorknob!” To further demonstrate how terrible gloves are, I will finish typing this wearing gloves. HIwrg’ih’gq’ ’p HI?Be’ prgjq;o euhtqj;lnk; a’weik ‘fehoiuf;hi s;nkljf.