My friend Matt will throw a high five for just about any reason. Your team scored a touchdown? High five. You sank a ball in pool? High five. You found a quarter on the ground? That's another high five. And his high fives come at you with such ferocity and gusto that at the end of an afternoon of hanging out, your hand will be bright red, swollen and it'll hurt to use your high-fiving hand to hold forks or pens. Matt works at a restaurant, and one day a woman complained that the servers were giving such loud high fives that the slapping was hurting her ears. The restaurant implemented a No High Five policy. A day later Matt posted a two-page letter on the break room bulletin board that detailed his love of high fives and he told his colleagues that he would be leaving his job to work in a place that continues to allow high fives. I'm not sure how they celebrated, but I'm sure there were a lot of high fives involved.
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