Geez! I’m Not Made of Glass!

You know when you go to shake someone’s hand and you are expecting a nice, firm, confident handshake, but instead you get something resembling something closer to a dead fish or Richard Simmons (who I’ve met, incidentally)? I hate that. That is like nails on a chalk board to me. It’s like feeling the pop when you squish a spider in toilet paper. Gross.

You know what I hate even more? When you go to hug someone and they give you the impression that this experience is like hugging a potato chip. Like if they apply any amount of pressure the person will crumble brittlely in their arms. If I am going to get close enough to hug a person, I am going to give them a good squeeze, maybe pat their back, and really let them know that I am so happy to see them or excited for their good news, or that I am here for them if they need me. If I don’t feel I can give this treatment to that person, I just don’t hug them. Seems like an easy thing to do. Hugs are personal, why would you share them with someone that makes you uncomfortable.

Where did this come from, you ask? I saw an old friend this morning while getting breakfast. It was like hugging a leaf. No substance. I left feeling very empty. I didn’t like that.

One Response

  1. Agreed!

    Regardless of the person who’s hand I am shaking, I always have a firm grip. Its just the way I do things, I suppose.

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