Jem Publishing

The other day, I had the honour (or not, depending on your view) of meeting a well-known, high-powered politician here in Tassie. (So a nobody then? Glad we sorted that out.) Actually, I met a bunch of them. All the sitting members of a particular party. The big wigs. The movers and shakers. The connected. The suits.

I felt right at home in my cargo shorts and singlet top.

These were powerful men and women … and they knew it. And I was little old me … and I knew it.

Now, without opening the whole political can of worms, I will say this group of politicians represented a party I tend to lean away from. I find it a challenge to agree with their doctrine … and a couple of specific policies I am vehemently against. But, hey, in essence (especially at a State level) I am a swinging voter … so I’ll hear what everyone has to say!

So here I am, sitting at a laptop in a small room with a colleague working on a project. The bunch of suits wander in – they don’t all fit, the room is too small. One or two are just poking their heads in the door. If they weren’t so serious, stuffy and stuck up I would have laughed out loud. It looked comical.

They knew my colleague and shook his hand. I was introduced to everyone as “Em”. That’s it, just “Em”.

Riiiiiight.

So, I don’t matter? Strangely, that’s fine by me because I don’t really want to matter to these people. Not on a personal level.

I imagine the lack of elaboration on my name or my role was a protective thing because my surname (not me) is rather strongly associated with the other major political party in Tasmania and that would have just been awkward, right?

I shake the hand of the party’s Big Guy and do you know what I get? Barely the ends of his fingers! Like a tiny little bit of hand, not a proper handshake at all.

What’s with that??

I figured I must have had Other Party written all across my face and he didn’t want to get any on him.

Seriously?! Why do some men do that? Blokes will give other blokes nice firm handshakes. Proper ones, that actually say:

“I am pleased to meet you and to show you how much I respect you as a person I will now share with you the full force of the germs on my hand.”

With women though it seems to be:

“I’m a big powerful bloke. If I shake your hand in the regular way I may crush your dainty bones with my amazing masculine strength. So here, have a floppy fingertip shake.”

Yuk.

In all honesty, my suspicions were confirmed and I was suitably unimpressed.