About 80 years ago, my old (at the time) told me about the guy who showed up at work Monday morning with a black eye, a band-aid over his nose, face all scratched up. Everyone wanted to know what happened to him, but he wouldn't talk about it. When they kept insisting, he finally said,
Got beat up in church! Nobody would believe him and wanted details. Finally he told them,
There was this really heavy lady sitting in the pew in front of me. She was wearing one of those slinky taffeta kind of dresses. When we stood up to sing, it got pinched in her butt. It looked awful so I reached over and pulled it out. She turned around and hit me with her hymnal, purse and umbrella.
The next Monday he came to work with his both eyes black, head bandaged, arm in a sling and leg in a cast. What happened, everyone asked. Again he didn't want to talk about it. When they really insisted he finally explained,
The same heavy lady was sitting in front of me, wearing that same slinky dress. We stood up to sing again. The dress got pinched in her butt again. The guy next to me reached over and pulled it out.
I knew she didn't want that, so I was tucking it back. . . . . .