I know it might have seemed cool at the time, but I just…look…I don’t…
Okay. I’m just going to say it.
I didn’t really want to low-five you.
You know what? I’m not even sorry. I was just too rattled to not slap your hand. I feel violated, really.
I saw you coming towards me, looking super pumped to be running, wearing your muscle shirt, sunglasses and spandex shorts, and I was just going to nod my head at you. Just a good old head nod acknowledging the fact that we were both human beings running for exercise. I thought that was enough. Oh, how wrong I was. Just as I was gearing up for the head nod you come out of nowhere, lower your left hand, and put on your best “LET’S DO THIS!” face.
I freaked out. In the split second between me recognizing that you were going for the low-five and me putting my hand down to consensually hit yours I thought, “There’s no way you can’t high five this guy. He looks so pumped. It will be awkward if you don’t do it. He might stop and say something like, ‘Why didn’t you low-five me, bro?’ Um…uhhh…DO IT NOW, KYLE! THERE’S NOT MUCH TIME LEFT!”
And in that instance I was able to identify with rape victims everywhere. I even heard you whisper AWESOME as it happened. It gives me shivers just thinking about it. Shame on you. You knew that societal rules made it impossible for me not to smack hands with you; it would have been rude. Especially since we were both running for exercise.
So, Guy Who Low-Fived Me While I Was Running, I may have said “yes” by submitting to your extended, open hand, but I am telling you right now that the feeling of elation you felt as our palms met was not, by any stretch of the word, mutual.