I drop a familiar-glove

He presents a wad of fabric, a glove that is black in color with white lettering on the knuckle side of the piece. When I unfold it and reveal what the object is to Victor, he gets between me and the door and closes it shut. “Put it on,” Victor says, folding his arms over his chest. I look up and see an inquisitive expression on his face. It's like he is testing me. There is no ounce of contempt on his face.

I put the glove on and it's obvious that the glove is a couple sizes too big for my small hand.

“Interesting. I have a co-worker who wears the same gloves when he is working. He's the only person I know who wears that certain brand,” he tells me, acting like he is feigning any knowledge that I recognize him as the head of maintenance at my day job. “He's quiet, but I'm cool with it. So cool, in fact, that I asked for his number from the office. I was going to invite him to a get-together with the other guys, to hang out and whatever.” I take off the glove and stash it in my bag.

“Alright, well, if that is all, then I'm gonna leave now,” I announce, reaching for the doorknob.

“Let me get you a tip. For humoring me,” Victor says. He disappears from the foyer.

I have a thought of leaving without receiving the tip, knowing I don't do this activity for the money. I also know that anyone could send me a tip through the app, rather than physically. He was kind enough to end the session immediately after he was satisfied, so I find it would be kind in return to receive the tip, even though I do not need it.

In my waiting, my phone vibrates in my bag. I pull it out and see that I'm getting a call from an unknown number.