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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Tuesday, May 25   >>

HANDSHAKES

You can tell a lot about someone with their handshake.

In '94, my uncle took me to a World Cup game. On the way to the stadium, there were a bunch of promo booths. Kellogg's had this one booth for kids: "Kick the ball into the goal and get a FREE LITTLE BOX OF CEREAL."

So I went up to the ball and made a fucking goal. It was amazing, despite the fact that there were no obstacles preventing me from making a goal (shut up).

I was so excited, I went up to the Kellogg's guy and snatched the box out of his hand.

This was kind of unruly behavior since I was a miracle child who knew manners and never gave my parents headaches, so my uncle pulled me aside and said, "NO. GO BACK, SHAKE THE MAN'S HAND AND SAY 'THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME PLAY.'"

So I went back to the guy and I said, "Can I shake your hand okay thank you for letting me play k bii..."

And it wasn't even a real fucking handshake. It was hand contact so fast it should have been called a high-five.

My uncle wouldn't take that shit. No. No fucking way.

"Give me your hand."

I gave him my hand.

And then he broke my hand.

Not literally, but he could have if he shook for 5 seconds longer. It wasn't a handshake. It was like putting my hand in an industrial vice grip.

"THAT'S how you shake a man's hand, Hugo. YOU WILL REMEMBER THIS MOMENT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. YOU MIGHT EVEN PUBLISH IT ON A BLOG, WHICH AT THIS POINT IN TIME, IS A MEDIUM THAT DOESN'T EXIST, BUT WILL ONCE YOU ARE OLDER."

"How long, Uncle?"

"Approximately 6 years, give or take a few."

Well, anyway, after that, I learned to give meaty handshakes. I've learned over the years that a mean, confident handshake gives you a subconscious upper hand/advantage over anyone you meet. It's subtle dickish-ness, but, hey, whatever works, right?

I mean, let's face it, most people are AWFUL handshakers. There's the soft handshake which is just hand-cuddling. Then there's the half-shake (Seinfeld covers this one pretty well). Then there's the rarely mentioned four-finger handshake where you accidentally grip 3 of 5 fingers of the person you're handshaking.
And, rarely--VERY RARELY--do you ever meet a guy whose handshake is so fucking EPIC you wonder why you even bother to continue living anymore.

CASE STUDY: Last Saturday I was at a birthday dinner and there was a guy I'd never met.

I go in for the handshake and...

...AND IT'S LIKE MY UNCLE AND THIS NEW GUY'S STRENGTHS WERE COMBINED IN ORDER TO RULE THE WORLD AND GAIN ULTIMATE DOMINANCE OVER ANYTHING IN EXISTENCE.

All night, I was thinking, "Holy. Shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit. That guy's shake was epic. I want to tell him. Should I tell him? I mean, c'mon, it was amazing. That's a shake that deserves both praise and a Medal of Honor. And a harem."

Upon leaving, I asked The Bert--who was present that night--"...Whatcha think of that handshake from that guy?"

And we locked eyes. And we said nothing.

And that's more than anyone can ever say about that handshake.

----

Tomorrow on the blog: How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days