hey lady. i had a real good reason for sniffing my fingers.

Ikea, minutes before opening. My fingers in my bag search for my phone, but they meet my pepper spray as I approach the pickup doors. I interrogate the plunger and I feel out what I feared - it had wiggled loose of its meager safety and was ready to fire with an errant plunge. I surreptitiously fix it, fingers still in my bag (so that I don't worry people), and I pull a receipt out of my bag. I put it in my left back pocket, which is where I put all my receipts. But, the receipt being long, I have to get my hands deep in my back pocket. It's at this point I should tell you that I have the visual demeanor of a Serious Person. I am told I have Resting Bitch Face. I look like some sort of "Art Faggot" swaddled in a humbling spring coat. Pulling my hands out of my pocket, I decide to check for signs of an accidental depression of the pepper spray plunger. I tentatively sniff my fingers. Far from my nose at first, but then more deeply. My sniff test returns no hint of the spice. But I catch this sort of half-scowling glance from an older woman. I meet her gaze. She turns away. I do too. Do I need to spell out how this looked? It looks like I dug my fingers into my own ass crack, and then sniffed them afterwards.