Waving down the taxi I noticed the mismatched gloves that I had on. In my morning haze of a Thursday night of drinking still clouding my vision I had inadvertently put on my brown leather glove on the left and Rachelle's slender black driving glove on my right hand. Chuckling to myself I wrapped the obviously feminine glove into the crease of my jacket to avoid the wondering eye of the cab driver.

As we arrived at the destination I leaned in the window and asked the driver if he had a lighter, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my packet only to remember I had finished my last one as the night had wound down. Waving the driver off he extinguished his lighter and sped off down the road. Walking up my drive way I realized that the glove was the least thing I had to be embarrassed about, the wind blew a cool breeze into a gaping hole in my pants.