Matthew Bell

Meeting men used to be so easy. I don’t mean that in a Grindr sort of way. I just mean that when a chap bumped into a chap, you knew what to do. Stick out your paw and shake his hand and everyone could move on. Now, though, the everyday occurrence of being friendly to a fellow male is a minefield of potential slights. And it is all the fault of the man-hug. The handshake, once such a simple act of courtesy, now seems too stiff, too formal, too English. It has become absurd to shake hands with your father, or your best friend. You might as well tell him you don’t like him. Something more is required — a back slap or an arm squeeze, perhaps even a man-hug. But with any less an acquaintance, this intimacy is ridiculous.