Into the space between my motherf***ing bag of holding and platform 9 3/4. Presumably with a bunch of unique socks via some gremlin race of unilaterally developed a-holes who delight in absconding with 50% my thermal wear and later guffawing at me shoveling snow in a crew cut white sock, a low cut gray sock, a Mechanix impact glove, and an up to the elbow dish glove
I leave it on the sidewalk I dropped it on, in some distant, remote chance Tom Hanks will pass it by, photograph it, and tweet it out to his legions. Although he made a movie here once, I wouldn’t expect him to ever return. And yet I go through glove after glove.
The rare instances where I have to put on my winter gloves they are probably not coming off till done with that situation. And I have a pair you can mostly use your fingers. If one is coming off maybe the armpit but probably they both need to come off at that point and going whereever. Cause we need some dexterity. And can deal with the semi frostbite later.