Tough guy

This afternoon I was chatting with a party-rental guy delivering tables, chairs, dishes and so forth for a dinner party. He said it had been a busy week -- he already had put in 55 hours and was pleased at the thought of how much OT he was racking up.
As he was wheeling in a dolly stacked with six chairs (cushions attached), I noticed with surprise that he wasn't wearing gloves (it was 24 degrees out).
"Noooo," he explained. "Never do."
He showed me his hands, which didn't appear blue with cold.
"Gloves," he said with disgust. "Ya can't get a grip!"
Speaking of big Christmas parties, on the way home Friday night I passed a house that is normally hidden way back in the woods. Not tonight: it was all lit up, inside and out, and I could see cars parked all over the yard. Flanking the driveway out at the main road were two torches, and not just little tiki torches or flares; they were major flambeaux, like the Ghost of Christmas Present carries. Any bigger and they would've needed a township permit.