Oct. 22, 2003
I'm an old-school hand-shaker. Extend hand, grasp firmly the palm of the person you're shaking hands with, perform an up and down motion originating from about the elbow a few times and then separate. Simple, effective and universal.
Yet, since I started college, I've learned a different variation of the classic handshake every day. People from all over the state and beyond who gather at Binghamton University during the school year have their own local handshake. And they all expect me to know theirs.
When I first came to BU, a new person I had just met stuck his hand out, and I, foolishly thinking it was a normal handshake, grabbed his hand. He went up and down once, but then let go and started doing a weird motion that looked like someone snapping their fingers followed by a derivative of the handshake, the closed-fisted pound. After watching me hopelessly try to follow along, he shot me a quizzical look and asked me, "What in the world are you doing?" I just shrugged. I had no idea what I was doing.
Now though, when I meet someone and they extend their hand, I'm always on guard. I try to use my decent hand-eye coordination, built up from years playing video games and scooping ice cream, to decipher their mystifying moves, but ultimately I always fall flat and screw up the handshake. Sometimes I can keep up for a motion or two, but about the time the other person gets to rubbing his tummy and patting his head, I'm wildly flailing my arms.
Learning every handshake is akin to learning every local dialect of one language. And shaking is a language. I've seen two people from different schools walk up to each other on the street and perform strange motions that vaguely resembled a handshake. Each looked as if he knew what the other was doing, and when that's the case, a local shake can truly be a work of art. The letters on their jackets indicated that they were probably in a fraternity where such secret shakes are the norm. Maybe it's code for something, or a way to make them irresistible to women and squirrels.
With all of the shakes around, perhaps it's time that the university educated people in shaking etiquette, perhaps even offer a major on the topic. New shakes could be invented for the discipline, and maybe even an entire language, the way Star Trek fans have their Klingon. I'd go for it.
Some of the shakes, though, aren't really shakes at all. I once grabbed someone's hand and instead of shaking, he pulled me toward him and slapped me on the back. A "Man Hug," he called it. I actually did pick that one up, but all my cousins give me a strange look when I try to use it as a goodbye.
Those crazy cousins of mine. How could they not know the Man Hug?
Ahmad wishes he could learn the secret fraternity handshakes. He can be reached at wahmad@pressconnects.com.
© 2003 Press & Sun-Bulletin, Binghamton, N.Y.