Punching Mrs. Greenberg

Doing the tourist thing at Provincetown on a cool spring day, with the wife and infant son.

Was trying to put on a windbreaker, and my watch caught on the sleeve…so I yanked to get my arm through and connected with the kisser of an elderly Jewish woman, who went by the name ‘Mrs. Greenberg’.
The five seconds of actual criminality went totally slo mo and seemed live five hours…the swift contact with clammy, white flesh, the breaking and dangling of the wire rimmed glasses, and the concerted expressions of horror of all who witnessed this ridiculous event.
Mrs. Greenberg’s companion, undoubtedly Mrs. Schwartz, screamed, “My God, you hit Mrs. Greenberg!”
Immediately, a posse formed a circle around the aggressor (me) and the victim (Mrs. G) and her idiot companion.
This spontaneously formed posse came to be because, I guess, they thought I was going to run off, leaving my wife and infant son, and eventually board a plane to Europe.
I checked on Mrs. Greenberg, and she was a tad wobbly…a bit in shock.
I gently removed her glasses, and they were, indeed, demolished.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Greenberg, I will pay for your glasses.”  The posse nodded yes in agreement.
I gave Mrs. Schwartz my address and told her to send me the bill.
Two weeks later, she did.
I was expecting a couple of hundred bucks, but the bill was thirty dollars.
COULD NOT PAY THAT FAST ENOUGH.  With ‘paid in full’ written all over the check.
Because wives are very good at adding insult to injury, the ride home from Provincetown was an opportunity to declare, in the most direct ways imaginable, how stupid I was.
Even my infant son seemed to goo and gurgle in agreement.
From that point on, I never put on a jacket of any kind in a public place.  I will step away to a private location.  Always.
As a result, I have had no other Greenberg eruptions in the twenty three years since.
But being large of bod, something, somewhere, soon is gonna happen.
And my wife will be right…it will be enormously stupid.
And probably expensive.
Final thought, these kinds of things happened to me all the time in my younger years.  Not so much in my old weezer years.
Happy about that.
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