The Obnoxious Handshaker

There ought to be a fine for men like that.

The Obnoxious Handshaker

 

By Elton Camp

 

One of the things I don’t ever understand

The man who forces me to shake his hand

What could possibly be filthier than that

I can’t ever know where his hand’s been at

 

The thought always springs into my mind

Perhaps he has been scratching his behind

Or maybe from the bathroom he came out

Failed to wash his hands, there’s no doubt

 

Even if I keep hands in pockets with a glare

Then he will still demand, “Put ‘er there.”

I wonder where brains or courtesy went

From a man who can’t take such a hint

 

And about the worst experience that I get

Is to have to shake and find the hand wet

I wish I could get out of shaking somehow

I think I’ll start to say, “Please, let’s bow.”