Man Hands

Ever see the Seinfeld episode called “Man Hands”? It was the one where Jerry was dating this girl and he liked everything about her except that she had the hands of a man. She had these huge man hands complete with thick man fingers and ugly, rigid veins poking out. I'm talking about the kind of hands you see on a construction worker or automobile mechanic. Her hands were not feminine in any fashion and didn’t go with the rest of her body. Seinfeld just couldn’t deal with her hands because they weirded him out. Well…I encountered my own version of “Man Hands” today and it totally freaked me out.

There is a gas station across from my work that has a lunch counter in it. Like many business’s, Friday is our casual dress day. Since its casual day we usually go pickup breakfast sandwiches and bring them back to the office. This lunch counter has the absolute best sausage biscuit’s I’ve ever had, plus they are really cheap. I look forward to getting one every Friday and feel deprived when I don't get one. It’s also important to know that where I work is north of town about 12 miles, so it’s kind of in the boonies. Some would even say that this area has its fair share of red necks. So to some, the gas station and lunch counter would be considered questionable. It is to me, but the biscuit’s are so good that I’m willing to take my chances.

I went in and walked up to the lunch counter and then ‘she’ appeared. For a red neck woman she looked fairly normal (or so I thought). She asked me what I wanted and I told her I wanted the link sausage breakfast biscuit. This place has a glass deli case that they store the food in to keep it warm before it is sold. I didn’t notice anything unusual until she reached in the deli case to get a sausage for my biscuit. That's when I noticed 'them' - her 'Man Hands'. I looked with disbelief into the glass case as she grabbed the sausage with her BARE hands, placed it on the cutting board, cut it in half and placed it on the biscuit. (Where's the Health Department when you need them?) The entire time she is doing this, I can't help but stare at her ‘Man Hands’. Like Seinfeld was, I am now completely weirded out by her hands. I don’t want to stare at them but it’s like a car wreck, I can’t help myself.

She placed my sandwich in a bag and handed it to me. As she handed it to me I made sure we didn’t touch hands. She then walked over to the cash register to check me out. I walked over to the cash register as well. She said that it would be $1.59 so I gave her a $1.75 – actually I set it on the counter so she would pick it up. Again, I was hoping not to have to touch those hands that were bigger and uglier than mine. I wasn’t as lucky when she gave me my change back. Instead of dropping the sixteen cents in my hand, she ‘pushed’ her hand into my and opened her fingers to release the change. When she did this the palms of our hands slammed together and touched. She smiled and said “Thank You”. At this point, I thought I was going to pass out. I could no longer see my hand because it was completely engulfed by hers. Her hands felt like dry, cracked feet. Uggghh. I then got the ‘willies’ through my whole body and stumbled towards the door.

As I headed out the door towards my truck I realized that I now had a dilemma; do I eat the world’s best sausage biscuit that ‘man hands’ has just man handled or do I throw it away and try my luck again next week with the hopes of getting a different server? I thought about this as I drove back to my office. I got back to work and I immediately went to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands with anti-biotic soap until they hurt. I then went to my office and tossed the bag with my sandwich in it on my desk. I sat in my chair and just stared at the bag. My mind kept going back and forth between those thick, meaty hands of hers and the taste of this awesome sandwich. This was a really tough decision and I didn’t know what to do. Now I know for many of you it wouldn’t be a difficult decision. You would simply pick up the bag and throw it in the trash. I wish my mind worked like that. I wish I could detach myself from the emotions that I have concerning food but I can’t. So...as you probably guessed, I sat at my desk and ate my sausage biscuit that man hands had fondled. I simply couldn't help myself. It tasted okay, but I just wish I wouldn't keep burping it up. Tasting it over and over again just keeps reminding me of those hands...