If you ever find yourself needing to walk out an airlock without a spacesuit then you must let all the air out, no matter where in your body it is: lungs, ears or digestive tract. Otherwise parts of you may burst.
Then, also, just try to (a) be quick and (b) have a bit of cloth or something for grabbing the metal handle of the other airlock; and you may be fine... If you grab metal in space with unprotected fingers then you may freeze or burn them, depending whether the metal is facing the Sun or not.
Anyway, that is that, and this is a poem about a coffee table.
Space
Between my two raised hands
I show just how much width
the coffee table takes
and that is space
not a huge amount of it
something approaching three foot six
but the same stuff
that separates us from the Moon.
You're on the far side
of the coffee table now;
no matter how I manoeuvre
I can't bring you close...
...you say you need more space;
beyond you is the window,
kites flying in the park,
and beyond that, the Sun.
