Elspeth McLean prefers a good firm handshake to a slobbery snog by strangers, and is not impressed by politicians who go round dispensing the latter on an unsuspecting public.
Perhaps I haven't been paying attention, but there seems to have been a refreshing lack of gratuitous kissing during the general election campaign.
I did see John Key awkwardly peck the top of a baby's head, but thankfully no political couple appears to have emulated that ghastly seemingly endless snog Al Gore inflicted on wife Tipper at the Democratic National Convention back in 2000.
It's a wonder though, given that Al's now the poster boy for that cause celebre global warming politicians are embracing, or pretending to.
Since political candidates fall all over themselves hugging the latest fads - if they're not on YouTube or MySpace, they are making tedious DVDs or texting - I have been worried unnecessary kissing might break out during the campaign following a recent laugh-out-loud Sunday Star-Times piece by Leah McFall.
It suggested a new trend was people kissing hello on the mouth.
Most of us down here probably thought it was one of those Auckland things, a bit like metrosexuality, traffic jams or ants and probably just as unpleasant.
Contact with the Auckland-dwelling sister suggested if it was indeed a trend, it was one which had yet to slobber its way to her.
She, like me, prefers the handshake (something not favoured, incidentally, by Ms McFall, who seemed worried at the interpretation put on her limp half-second attempt and whether her attention span was long enough to last the distance of the standard shake).
I like it because when I was a young woman meeting strange men (and I am not talking just about the old boyfriends here), there was no physical contact.
There would be a nod of his head in my direction if I was lucky.
Nowadays, when a man extends his hand, it feels genuine to me.
That's important. So much of the greeting we do is false.
Top of the faux greeting would have to be that practised by shrieking teenage girls.
Having not seen each other for at least five minutes, during which time they have probably exchanged 20 texts, they run simperingly into one another's arms.
I am not sure that you can run simperingly, but it is the only way I can get close to describing the silly dainty little steps they take en route to the hug.
It is enough to make me want to shriek, with agony.
Matronly types can be just as false about greeting.
The obligatory loose hug with air kissing in the general direction of cheeks is just awful.
To be effective, a greeting has to feel natural.
Some hugs are like that; honestly given and enjoyed.
A good greeting hug leaves you feeling special, warm and a little more secure, just for a moment.
If it feels sleazy or as if you are both going through the motions because it's expected, there is no point to it.
Sometimes awkwardness means we miss the boat with greetings.
My late mother-in-law, whom I loved dearly, is a case in point.
I began our relationship by not knowing what to do, so did nothing, and later, when I recognised she would have relished a good hug, I was too stupid to instigate that.
I regret it still.
Handshakes can be fraught for men, I realise.
There are those who must compete to see who will inflict the need for orthopaedic surgery first and, for young men, there's a quandary about what type of shake is about to take place.
Will it be the old-fashioned one, a high five, or maybe a thumb-grasp and slide where the initial contact is followed by a linking of fingers; or worse, an embarrassingly unsatisfying combination of the three where they are lucky if anything connects? As a woman, however, when a man puts out his hand and I shake it, I feel we're equals.
Well, I did, until the Auckland-dwelling sister told me she instigates handshakes with men.
I'm not sure that I do.
What does that make me? Subservient?
It was time to consult heartland New Zealand, or to be specific, the Murchison-dwelling sisters (one of whom is known as the Ice Block Stick because that's what she impersonates at the approach of a hugger).
Both said they also appreciated the handshake, although they too were content to receive rather than give.
One cruelly described the Auckland-dwelling sister's instigation behaviour as "trawling for a man".
"Ooooooowwwww" was their reaction to any suggestion the mouth-kiss hello might be about to take off.
If we're all still confused about handshaking and hugging, why make matters worse?Please, please let any desperate trendy wannabe politician contemplating puckering up and planting the population with superfluous pashes in the next few days ponder anew.
• Elspeth McLean is a Dunedin writer.
