Ill-Advised Handshakes and Social Contract Breaks

Sometimes living life with next to no rules can get you into trouble. Now, don't get me wrong, there is no way I would give up my sanity to have a set of standards by which I live my life, but still it would be handy sometimes to be more like Jonathan Edwards than St. Francis of Assisi. I mean, really, how many rules can a naked guy who preaches to birds have going through his mind at a single moment?

The proviso to living in complete Christian freedom is that you must be prepared to make a complete and utter moron of yourself from time to time. Trust me, it will happen. Are you craving an example yet? Ask and you shall receive.

So last night I was in a fine mood. This week has started off looking a bit more profitable than the past few at work and I had enjoyed a fantastic day of writing and hanging out with good friends before work. I am beginning to find that these times of relaxed joy and peace are also times that can wreak havoc on the tables I wait on. It is quite simple, when I feel loose, I am liable to say or do just about anything that pops into my head, circumventing any decision-making process involving rules whatsoever.

So when a friendly couple sat down for dinner on their anniversary, I was suddenly inspired to shake hands with the gentleman, extending my well-wishes and greetings. As you may have guessed, this is where having a world dictated by rules would have come in handy. To state a rather obvious rule, it is not good etiquette for a waiter to offer a handshake at the beginning of a meal. But who needs rules when you are free, right?

As I stuck my hand out, I envisioned writing this very story about the dos and don'ts of waiting on tables. I was further convinced of my fau pax when my new friend refused to shake my hand. Now, this is not the first time this has happened, in fact, there are quite a few people in the world who have a standard of when to shake hands and when to refuse handshakes. The rest of us are out of luck.

What made him a bit unique was the fact that he felt the need to verbalize his objection to shaking my hand.

"I am sorry I cannot shake your hand, I just washed mine."

"No problem", I quickly responded, trying desperately to bypass any further interaction in this increasingly awkward situation. I moved on to the specials, recommendations of the day and warmly encouraged them to let me know when they were ready to order. Catastrophe averted.

That is, of course, until the next time I approached the table. The man had a guilty conscience about breaking the unstated social contract, whether or not my handshake was appropriately timed. For a second time he made verbal the fact that he was sorry not to have shaken my hand. For a second time I assured him that there was really no problem. If you feel odd shaking somebody's hand, what is it that compels you to make restitution? Why not refuse the handshake boldly?

I think the real issue in this story centers around freedom and strenuous law-keeping. I was free to extend a handshake with the understanding that I may well have been rejected in my quest. He was free to refuse the handshake with the understanding that the situation may well have turned awkward for a moment.

But there was something insidiously freedom-denying about the felt-need to always explain ourselves. Do you feel the need for explaining your every action, thought, desire, and word? That kind of rule-keeping will wear you out and keep you from living as a free man.

I think I would rather be free to be a complete moron than to be bound to explain my every movement. What about you?