Writer-comedian Daniel Tizon, the last of his family line (probably for the best), forensically dissects the minutiae of daily life, from the dread of SMALL talk with a chatty new neighbour in his building, to explaining why he hasn't danced since he was eight years old. To Daniel, dancing requires a level of EXTROVERTED performance - the expressions, the gestures, the flair, all of which need to be synced with the actual dance moves - that his understated persona simply cannot accommodate.

He explores too the fraught etiquette of the adult education college urinal, specifically the moment a classmate you’ve never actually spoken to in class decides to initiate the breakthrough conversation while positioned next to you at the low-hanging trough. Of all the places to finally bond, the gents’ feels like a questionable choice.

It's all a social minefield.