limp wet fish dishrag

I remember this one time back in oh,...junior high or so, my family and I went to the beach for a week. As was often the case, I met a cute boy, and we started hanging out, making out on the sand dunes at every possible opportunity (like ya do). At some point in the week, he had occasion to meet my dad. I introduced the two of them to each other and they shook hands. We all talked for a few minutes, then it was time to go.
As we pulled away, I asked Dad what he thought of The Guy. With no hesitation, he said, "he had a terrible handshake, like a wet dishrag" and went on to talk about how awful a bad handshake is. And went on and on about it. My Dad, the level-headed, kind, giving gentleman was so passionate about a bad handshake, and what implications it had for this boy his daughter liked.
As these things do, it stuck with me.
Recently, I met another wet dishrag handshaker. It was a female this time, and she was old enough to know better. Though I tried to ignore the urge, I couldn't, and I actually did wipe my hands off after the handshake. I don't doubt her hands were clean enough, but somehow I felt I'd been infected.
So what is this about handshakes? Why is it so important to get it right? When so many people know how to do it well, what's the excuse for those who don't? Did this lady think she was being feminine and delicate by not being firm with her handshake?



OK, that's all I really had to say at the moment.