Friendly neighbours

I have recently moved from a depressing one bedroom flat in the city to a lovely three bedroomed house in the burbs. The air is cleaner. The noise is less noisy. The people are friendlier.

On the weekend of the move, I was busy supervising my girlfriend, who was carrying heavy boxes from the car to the house, when a little old lady from next door appeared to welcome us to the neighbourhood.

She walked up to my girlfriend and held out her ninety year old wrinkled hand, saying "Hi, I'm Jane. Welcome."

My girlfriend introduced herself while chatting about the lovely street and lovely trees and lovely day and lovely cats, while the handshake continued. This seems strange, but I'm too handsome to comment.

Near the end of the conversation, my girlfriend's voice becomes shaky and she looks like she's about to pass out. I quickly try to locate the camera, because filming her passing out while shaking hands with a little old lady will be fucking funny. Unfortunately I don't know in which box the camera is, as I was watching TV when my girlfriend did all the packing.

But the handshake ends without my girlfriend passing out, which has worked out for the better, as I still had no idea where the camera was. My girlfriend was softly wringing her hand as she heads back to the car to take the next heavy load into the house.

I approach Jane and hold out my hand and introduce myself. She smiles sweetly and grips my hand in what feels like the jaws of life. Her tiny little wrinkled hand, has the power of an angry bulldozer. Mild tempered bulldozers know nothing about handshakes.

She's crushing my hand, while smiling sweetly and telling me about her cat. A mild sweat has broken out on my brow and I try to fight the pain. I attempt to make mild chit-chat about her cat, but can only think about the pain.

Eventually she lets go and I'm able to breathe normally again. She waddles off to her house and I try and regain some blood back into my pulverised hand.

I sit down on the little wall outside our new home, while the girlfriend carries boxes and makes me something to eat and drink. How is it possible that a little old lady can develop so much power in her hand? Is it possibly a disease that makes her hand clamp down so fiercely? When should I ask for a hand-job?