The Anonymous Widower

It’s Not the Size of the Dog

Ask a postman and he’ll tell you that he’s more likely to get bitten by a irate dachshund than a large brute of a German shepherd.  And if there’s a serious dog fight, they’ll usually be something like a Jack Russell involved.  It’s just that small dogs seem to have more fight.

Now I’m 60 kilos (9 st. 6 lb.) or thereabouts wet through.  Not that that I usually get wet outside of a bath or shower.  And I’m just 1.71 metres (5 ft. 7 in. and a bit).  Which means I’m somewhere in size between a flat and a jump jockey or about the size of a lightweight boxer. I’m also 62 in August.

I was probably being stupid by wearing a watch in Naples, but then I’d done it before and hadn’t had a problem.  But thinking about it, when I had done it before, it had been cold and I’d been wearing my elderly Gieves and Hawkes jacket.  The jacket is the sort that British gentleman wore all over the Empire, as it’s capable of dealing with knives and small arms fire.

So as I was walking around the city with a lady friend, a thief struck and tried to take my Rolex.  Now it is not just any Rolex, but one my late wife gave me as a Christmas present two weeks after she died.  It is inscribed with something personal and it is very precious to me.

Subconsciously, I gripped my hands together and as one would expect from a watch like a Rolex, the strap held, giving me some bruises on the wrist.  We ended up rolling on the floor, with nobody giving me any assistance.  I chided my friend afterwards for not doing what women should do in these sort of circumstances and that is scream and scream loudly.  She just tried to kick him in the balls.

As we rolled, I was able to grab his index finger with my right hand and still I think keeping my left locked tight to my right wrist.  Something snapped and it wasn’t anything of mine and my assailant was up on his feet and jumping on to his accomplice’s scooter.  Did I just wrench his finger or break it?  The doctor I saw in the UK, who was built like a prop forward, said it was an easy thing to do.

So it was a win on points to the terrier.  Especially as the thief was perhaps well under half my age and  perhaps fifty percent heavier.  Hopefully, he’s a good bit wiser and will think twice about attacking small Englishmen.

I didn’t come out unscathed in that I had a large cut on the back of my head and I was bleeding quite badly.

No-one helped or came forward, so we eventually ventured into a pharmacy, where the pharmacist patched me up and called an ambulance.  Only then did some of the local women come forward to say how sorry they were.  But not a man said a thing.  Is this silence because of the fear that people have for the local thugs and the Mafia?

At the hospital, everything went well and I left an hour later with seven stitches in my head and a clean CAT scan, which checked that nothing more was broken.

As to the Rolex, it cost just £2 to have the strap straightened at Wigg’s in Newmarket.

Now would I go back to Naples?

Of course.  It’s a wonderful city with marvellous museums, Roman sites galore and lots of good food.  I had a glorious gluten-free pizza in the Umberto restaurant. And that’s just the city itself.

June 30, 2009 - Posted by AnonW | Transport/Travel | Coeliac/Gluten-Free, Italy, Naples