It has long baffled many people out there what men carry in our deep pockets. What is inside a man’s pocket? Is it lemons thrown at him by this cold, cold world? Is it sugar crystals from dipping his hands into a sugar bowl that morning and withdrawing it before anyone, not even his children, could see? Is it a car spare, like an extra set of shock absorbers, to whip out and use in case the car stalls?
Is it those collapsible stools to pull out and use when he walks into an important meeting and there are no seats? Is it a paper with his scribbling about what it would take to get pigs to fly? Is it a keyboard for use with his computer at work? Is it that classic book, The International list of man lies by Sir Olpphurt Green, that he plans to pull out and read when in a sticky situation during the course of the day? Is it ammunition? Is it a bag of money? Is it his phone?
Is it a speech, scribbled hastily onto a dog-eared paper, heralding his new boss and making snarky, backhanded, cleverly-disguised comments about his old boss? Is it lunch packed for him by his loving wife? Is it a boxing glove for use when the conductor tries to make away with his change? Is it all these things and more?
Some of these possibilities seem a bit out there so let us reel them in and stick to stuff you can relate to; stuff you have seen actually come out of your friend, brother, father, uncle’s pocket. What is in a man’s pockets we ask again? Is it plant seeds to throw around on his walk in the city in the hope that a few will find dirt, water, oxygen and a left-over sandwich, feed off them and grow?
Is it an actual, full-grown plant he is carrying around because they produce oxygen (and he really loves him some oxygen)? Is it a foul, say a hen for example, he plans to give to the waiter in a high-end restaurant right after ordering for chicken beronganaise? Is it a mirror to whip out when no one’s looking and straighten every hair? Is it soccer scores and predictions? What is in a guy’s pockets?