Reaching deeply into his pocket, in search of his key, Dave realised, to the unknowing observer, he probably resembled a dirty old man, enjoying a little solo dogging.
Despite smiling at the thought, he allowed himself a sideways glance to check for an audience, before finally brushing his fingertips against the key.
Maybe those kids from his childhood, who wore keys around their neck, secured by a shoelace weren't as dumb as he'd always believed.
Opening the door and stepping into the warmth of home, only to be greeted by the feeling of a spiders web across his face.
Resulting in Dave flailing his arms around his face with the speed and power of an Olympic swimmer.
Finally satisfied that the money spider, or equally harmless creature had been disbursed, Dave switched on the hallway light.
Taking the time to have a quick look around, just in case the web belonged to a bird eating tarantula.
It's unlikely but you do hear stories.
As he pushed the door closed behind him, it was obstructed by a mountain of mail.
"Oooo, Mr Popular!", he said sarcastically.
Shoveling up the post in one hand, whilst closing the door with the other, Dave walked through to the kitchen and spread the mountain of mail across the table.
Dave strained his eyes, as his ecologically friendly light bulb also strained to reach full brightness, with what felt like the speed of the sun rising.
After separating the junk mail, he was left with a solitary windowed envelope.
Tearing open the envelope, Dave recognised the credit card company's symbol inside, prompting him to throw the envelope on top of the pile of junk mail.
He stood momentarily motionless in the kitchen, then said, "Fuck this!", and headed back out of the door.
