Coming home from a doctor appointment, I ask Lisa to do an experiment with me. "Walk towards me." I say. As she comes towards me, I put my hand out towards her, and she veers away.

"Exactly!" I say. "You don't walk into it. Nobody walks into it."

"What is all this, then?" my wife asks.

Earlier, walking along the sidewalk to the doctor, there is a dude with his girlfriend up ahead, waiting at a crosswalk. Seeing me, the dude puts his hand out to me.

I don't know you. Get your damned hand out of the way.

Children and simple folk will greet a foreigner; church people will too. I humour the former, it is understandable; I walk politely past the latter with a nod of my head and a Japanese hand-parting-wheat gesture.

This guy is neither. He is inappropriate; I can only guess that it is some misguided attempt to impress the girl that is with him. And it is awkward. The hand he offers is too high up for a handshake, let alone that it is his left hand, and too low and poorly angled for the high-five that the simple folk often opt for. He floats it out there as if to put it familiarly around my shoulders.

"Piss off." I say, as I have to step to the side to avoid his hand. I glare a "What the fuck are you doing" face, as I walk past.

"I think you called that one right, Daddy." says Lisa.