A firm handshake is critical. Go bone-crushing hard and you’re viewed as a maniac and probable domestic abuser. Go too soft and you’re a sissy, insincere or creepy. Firm is how it’s played.
At the conclusion of a meeting yesterday, the gentleman I shook hands with came in unexpectedly fast and tightened his grip at my 2nd knuckle so that he was shaking my fingertips. It was at this moment in time, during my 41st year on this earth, that I decided I will no longer let these rare instances of handshakes gone wrong go without acknowledgement. I then explained to him that he gripped too fast and that we need to end this productive and positive meeting with a more manly shake than the poor one in which we were just engaged. A firm handshake with equal pressure from both sides followed and confidence and good tidings filled the room.
From now on, when I haven’t been able to offer a firm handshake, I’m going to call ‘do-over’.
Also, a note to all of you bone-crushing hand shakers: be advised that I have been working out my forearms. You come at me too strong with that shake and I will squeeze until your bones turn into a fine powder.