I try to counteract my bad memory by writing reminders on my hand. I’ve heard that the ink of the pen can actually cause cancer, but if I forget my doctor’s appointment I’m in trouble anyway. It’s funny how often I catch people trying to decode the shorthand scribble; I guess there’s not much else to do while waiting at the pedestrian crossing or standing in an elevator. I always thought it would be funny to write something like, ‘shave pubes’ or, ‘return faulty dildo’ on my hand, just to see people’s reaction. Last week I was standing in line at the bank and the guy next to me had ‘rob bank’ scrawled across his fist – apparently I also monitor people's memos. “That’s funny,” I said, nodding towards his hand; “I had the same idea.” He pulled a nine-millimetre handgun from his jacket pocket and pointed it at my face. “Go rob some other bank!” he yelled.