'Highlighters at the ready...'
The absorbing task of highlighting philosophy jargon beckoning, Hedders glanced in his breast pocket repeatedly, obviously looking for said highlighter. No matter how many times he delved into the pocket, it failed to miraculously conjure up the luminous utensil. Getting quite distracted, and frankly frustrated, by this lack-of-highlighter-in-pocket-ness, I inquired as to what the pocket did actually contain. Curiosity killed the cat.
Or, in this case, made the cat laugh hernia-inducingly hard.
Casually as you like, a teabag was produced from the pocket. Why? Why would anyone carry a teabag around in their breast pocket? Just in case one happened across a cup of hot water, so one could be prepared? Did he have milk and sugar in his trouser pockets? Every eventuality must be catered for I suppose.
It transpires that the philosophy office does not, in its undoubtedly vast repetoire of teas, have 'fair trade organic green tea' to which Hedders is paricularly partial.
So naturally he must carry the pristinely flat, specialist teabag around in his breast pocket, all day, every day, it seems. Thereby leaving little room for such trivialities as highlighters.