I was a hugger. Let's face it: if you go to church, you're probably hugged. A lot. You can avoid the hugs if you want, lurking near the back of the building, hiding in the bathroom, but if you're in any position of authority, you may as well give in to the hugs.
I am not a touchy-feely person. People have germs and I prefer to avoid germs. However, it is more important to me to convey love to a person by giving them a hug than to make myself comfortable by just waving to them from across the room.
This is why the good Lord invented hand sanitizer.
Anyway, once a long, long time ago I was making the hugging rounds at church when I was stopped. A man refused to touch me stating that "men do not hug women." It turned into a long explanation of how there are right and wrong ways to hug women.
I'm scarred for life.
Basically, if your breasts touch a man who isn't your husband, it's BAD. This I did not know. I must admit, sometimes my breasts do things that I'm not aware of.
Therefore, I don't hug men. Unless they hug me first. The only one who doesn't have a choice is Mr. Jim. If he comes around, he's getting a hug, like it or not. Mutant boobies or not.
Yes, I'm a preacher's wife and I said "boobies."
Picture stolen from here.