El Handshake-ero: One Man’s Quest To Become The King Of Handshakes
Que pasa bored dude or lady surfing the web. My name is Critter. And I’m rad.
I started working at mitú about 2 months back. I was in immediate trouble. I am a magnet to women because I was born with this condition called “handsomeness.” But what I most yearned for was platonic friendship. You see, I didn’t have any friends at mitú yet, and to make friends you have to touch people. You have to touch their hearts. And the best way to touch their hearts is by touching their hands.
I had a plan laid out in front of me: Give the coolest baseball high fives to my new co-workers so they could discover my inner-beauty. Simple.
I ran into “Shmenny” in the kitchen Monday. (I’m not using her real name because I didn’t ask her permission–but I’m a bad boy who doesn’t play by the rules. Except right now. I can’t lose this job. I just started paying my own streaming service.)
Anyways, I explained a simple handshake to “Shmenny” that went something like this:
“Schmenny” was instantly cool about trying it out. Que buena onda. I was touched by her kindness. Could this be my first friend?
Our handshake was a disaster.
It was bad. Just too much hand-sweat, and awkwardness, followed by her saying, “I should get back to work.” I spent Tuesday recovering from the humiliation.
On Wednesday I got back on that horse again. I decided to take it slow. Maybe a few hand-spanks and a kaboom was enough. This mitú producer had just finished editing his video…we’ll call him “Shmoseph.”
“Dude, that’s a sexy cut! We should celebrate that!” I said to him.
“Thanks, bro! We’re gonna get a beer. Wanna come?”
I wasn’t expecting things to move so fast. In a panic I randomly yelled, “LET’S HANDSHAKE!”
We did this.
I think we got it after the fourth try. I didn’t get a beer with “Shmoseph” and the guys, because I’m on this low-carb diet. But as I turned to head for the restroom, I knew friendship was definitely on the horizon.
I was riding the momentum of my last handshake when I decided I’d do the unthinkable. Make my own. I know what you’re thinking, ‘Critter, isn’t that a little wild?’ Yes. But that’s how I live, baby–wild.
Thursday morning “Shmemma’s” mom was sitting in the lounge. The time for hesitation was over.
“¡Hola señora!” I said, “Quiere hacer un handshake with me?”
She was taken aback. My looks have that effect on people. But she basically said she was down (in Spanish). Guys, this was crazy. I cooked up this hot handshake outta nowhere, but she was totally following my lead. We just started chopping imaginary taco meat like:
Then we just sorta found each other’s groove…
I felt this excitement build. Like our souls were totally in-tune and the universe was in complete cosmic alignment. Something incredible was happening and we could see it in each other’s eyes.
WHAT. WAS. THIS.
Our hands were making sweet music together. We both started laughing like dogs. It was CRAZY. I felt a great secret unfold before me. All around us the world is reaching out. And if you reach back, you’ll feel the world move you in ways you never thought possible.
That was my first mitú friend. A wonderful mom.
And baseball made it possible.
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