DAY 149: Fine-tuning my handshake

THE handshake’s not up to scratch; it’s a damp squib. Too apathetic to be insincere, it’s laughably underqualified. It’s like sending Jessica Mauboy to mete out destruction instead of General McChrystal.

I’ve been having a read on the various meanings of the handshake across different cultures – the custom stems from demonstrating you are not holding a weapon – but to my mind there are five to avoid.

1.The Two-Hander: Rife in church groups and AA meetings.
2. The Alpha Grip: Commonly found at school reunions and sales conferences, usually accompanied by a clap on the shoulder. Screams “overcompensating”.
3. The Sly Palm Tickle That No One Else Can See: Beloved of child molesters and senile grandfathers.
4. The Sharp Shake: This dismissive gesture mimics that observed at a urinal.
5. The Arthritic Claw: The domain of sociophobes who won’t commit to the full palm for fear of having their foul secrets leeched out of their fingers.

To this end, I’ve come up with some alternatives. I offer journo Mikey a selection to see which he prefers. He’s pawed everyone from Pnau to the Malaysian prime minister, so he should know which I can get away with.

1. The Don Draper: After the grip there’s one urgent jolt down the forearm, to make them meet your eyes in alarm.
2. The Slapper. By delivering a loud slap, I ensure I’m the centre of attention and instil a hint of don’t-push-me insanity.
3. The Last-Minute Cheeky Squeeze: A normal, firm handshake with a last-minute cheeky squeeze to convey warmth. Hey – fake it till you make it, right?

“The Cheeky Squeeze sends morse code down to my balls,” Mikey gasps, although I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. He confirms that my usual grip is shithouse. “It’s insipid,” he says, banging his own hand repeatedly against the wall in protest. “It smacks of middle management.” Of all my new moves, he picks the Don Draper, which is probably quite revealing.

Keeper? Yes. Coming soon: I iron the creases out of my gobbies.