Dish Pan Hands....

Dish Pan Hands

I am known to shy away from shaking a hand or two but you know since that is not so kosher in the business world I am often left to rub hands with the roughest hands on the eastern seaboard. Now, in my opionion there is not much worse than a hand that is ‘hard’ or a hand that is too ‘soft’. A ‘hard’ hand can be defined as a hand that is extremely dry (dry beyond ashy). A ‘soft’ hand is one that is mushy. Easy enough.

So I decide for lunch that I will find my ‘Crouching Tiger Hidden Negro’ and I go to Sushi Buffett for lunch. I was doubtful but it was quite good, no regrets. As I enter the buffet line a gentleman in front of me is ‘announcing’, now ‘announcing’ as it is stated here is the art of just talking out loud with hopes that someone will latch on a remark, then ‘BOOM’ that person is wrangled into a meaningless conversation with you about cherry blossoms, butterflies, or some other useless bullshit. So as he is ‘announcing’ things like “ooh Gen. Cho’s chicken, spider roll, etc” I am trying my hardest to not be taken in be his villainous ways. Of course he says, “how are you today”, and since I was raised right I had to say ‘fine and you?’, at that point it was over; he caught me.

“Oh do you work in the building?” he asks. “uh no I am across the street”(lying), "oh really? Do you work for …." of course at this point I have to make a calculated decision about where this convo is going. I make my decision and say “No, I do not.” “Well, good because they are in trouble.” “Well, good then” I say. Thinking this is over and pick up my sushi and trek to find a seat. Who follows me along – still ‘announcing’? You got it, ‘DIPSHIT!’!!

Now he did not sit next to me but just at the same ‘U’ – shaped table (think Benihana) and he just blabbed and blabbed and blabbed to his sidekick. This piece of shit went on and on until he struck something so hard I was like ‘excuse me what?’ What this blowhard said was, “my uncle and grandfather own a phone company” and he said it with such vigor I knew that he believed it in his spirit. The next thing I did was look at his shoes and for a wallet bulge.

Quick lesson:

Men

Point#1

• you can fake everything except a shoe. PERIOD. CHEAP shoes look cheap. And old shoes look old as hell…

• FYI – Kenneth Cole makes a shitty shoe, so tell your friends, tell your mama, tell your metrosexual friend who is still wearing his shiny black shoes from Kenneth Cole that that shit is wiggity whack!!! So that is why I looked at his shoes, they failed miserably. So look in your closet and check out those shoes, unless you work for the government, if you have some raggedy ass cheap shoes, light that shit aflame like Angela Basset in Stella Got Her Groove Back…

Point #2

• I look to the wallet bulge because… and I hate to dog on this but it has to be said. You a grown ass man but your wallet in your ass pocket or carry it in your hand!! PERIOD!! And unless you are carrying money like Cash Money Millionaires you need to have a slim wallet. Slim Wallet = style. Fat wallet = bad credit. Just a thought… I mean do you really need to carry around your Barnes and Noble loyalty card? I mean really… This test he failed too, he had a fat wallet in his front pocket.

So when I quickly surmised that this saddle bag of mess was pulling my leg (or thought he was) I was like ‘really? A phone company?” He said, ‘well not a company (as I thought, no shit) it is really a telephone co-op in Vermont’, again I sat shattered by the shear messiness of what I was hearing, I mean having spent a fair amount of time in VT in the last few months I was at a loss as to what phone co-op was. He went on to explain that he aunt is actually a llive operator who answers the phone and provides numbers and all that other operator shit, FROM THE HOUSE!!! I obviously must have looked flabbergasted because his friend who I like to think of as Piglet (work with it) was like ‘yeah she used to have a light up switch board', and of course speaking out of turn I said, “like a LIteBrite?” They just looked at me... But apparently it is true and no so uncommon in rural areas.

My grandfather and my uncle own a phone company … can you believe that shit?

It was all good until went to share Announcer and Piglet’s hands and lie to them saying “nice to meet you”. Announcer’s handshake went ok, but Piglet; Piglet’s hands were hard as bricks. Like when they touched my skin I jumped. Just hard as a damn rock (hard like he skin makes noise) and BEET red, I could not get upstairs fast enough to wash my hands with a mixture of Purell and liquid Dial. Brick Hands. Buy some Aveeno....