My girl took me to a fancy-shmancy black-tie company holiday party in a fancy-shmancy ballroom in a fancy-shmancy hotel here in New York City.  She introduced me to some important guy in the company. And he has the BONECRUSHER Handshake!

This guy gripped my hand so strong, my knuckles sounded like popcorn in the microwave. OUCH!!!

The entire time, all I could think about was: "How can I avoid shaking BONECRUSHER's hand again?"

Now we're saying our goodbyes. Crap! There's BONECRUSHER! I tried to do the "I-can't-get-to-you-because-it's-crowded-so-I'll-simply-wave-goodbye-thing" but my girl wasn't having it. She pulled me to him. Noooooooo! 

This guy had squeezed my hand so hard, my fingernails nearly popped off. No way I'm going through that again.

So I screamed above the music of the band, "GREAT PARTY!!! IT RULED!!!" Then I raised my hand for a high-five.

BONECRUSHER, despite his tuxedo, gave me the high-five. But then he stuck out his gorilla claw for the goodbye handshake. Crap!

Even though he's an older guy, I thought I'd throw out the fist for the urban fist-knock salutation. I think this confused him, because he put his hand out flat over my fist. So I explained: No, we're not playing Rock-Paper-Scissors.

Now it's getting weird. My girlfriend is turning red. Which is bad because that means tonight my man-grapes will be feeling blue.

What do I do?! Uh...um...uh...so I gave him a manly hug. He accepted.

And cracked three of my ribs.

My buddy (and very talented musician) Jeff has his own holiday party nightmare!

Jeff writes:

I was at a holiday party in LaCrosse, Wisconsin with my girlfriend at the time and her portly mother.  The people were very stuffy... and as we walked into the party room I was struck by the sight of several couples doing the corpse dance and one bald dude dancing as if he was being struck by lightning...

It was reminiscent of that scene from Being John Malkovich where he does that bedroom dance...I stood there gawking until my girlfriend's portly mom said in a very portly way..."Oh...that's Jim...he's the guidance counselor...a very free spirit".  I was like "Free spirit my ass... that f*cker's possessed!"