The Obnoxious Handshaker

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.”