My High-Five

I love high-fives. There's something intrinsically positive about it; the build-up, the satisfactory connect, the sting of affection and the hangover of a childish grin shared between friends gives me a joy that warms my very soul.

So, cycling to work this morning, imagine my excitement when I saw a woman on Waterloo bridge at the bus stop, leaning out into the road to hail the bus behind me like so:

I literally couldn't resist. I delivered one medium-power high-five, right to the palm, as I trundled on by.

I turned just in time to see her look of disgust turn to confusion then to the joyous smirk that only a high-five can give.