Dude, You Can Let Go Now

Alison and I were quite the social butterflies last weekend. Observe:

• On Friday, we went to a picnic with, among others, Nick and Amy.
  
• On Saturday, we went out for dinner with Lisa and Greg.
• On Sunday, we went to a going-away party for Alison's friend Kelly, where I got to meet, among others, Timily*.
  

Anyway, one of the guys who was there with his girlfriend---not one mentioned above---made me somewhat uncomfortable when I shook his hand. The handshake went like this:

• Clasp hands.
• Shake, shake.
• I relax my hand, because this is the time when a normal handshake ends**. He holds on.
  
• He keeps holding on for at least two seconds longer, so now I'm standing in a bar holding hands with this guy.
• He finally lets go.
  

Weird, eh?

* In the spirit of Bennifer, Tomkat, and Brangolina, I've decided to refer to these two by just one name. Unfortunately for Alison and me, neither "Michison" nor "Alichael" sounds very attractive.

** I don't think I have some unusually brief idea of the typical handshake duration, because I've shaken hands with hundreds of men and a similar number of women over the course of my life.