Read Online A Commodore of Errors by John Jacobson - Free Book Online Page B

minutes early. He came to this fateful decision after talking some more with Raymond about the value of sticking with a routine.
    Mrs. Tannenbaume, bored by the lack of customers, was hanging around listening in. To her, this talk of routine just sounded sad. She told Putzie that she herself hated routines. It made things go stale, she had said, matter-of-factly.
    â€œWhat about the hoo-hoo and the ha-ha?” Mrs. Tannenbaume asked. “I hope you’re not letting things go stale in the sex department.”
    Raymond tittered like a schoolboy. “The hoo-hoo and the ha-ha? Sounds kind of fun.”
    â€œWell, come to think of it,” Putzie said, “Mitzi has been acting kind of cold lately.”
    â€œCold?” Mrs. Tannenbaume said. “How cold?”
    Putzie avoided Mrs. Tannenbaume’s gaze. A bad sign.
    Mrs. Tannenbaume nodded her head. “I know the type. She’s as cold as a stepmother’s kiss, ain’t she?”
    Putzie looked down at the floor while the Martinizing machines whirled away. Mrs. Tannenbaume figured Putzie must be uncomfortable talking about his sex life with a seventy-six-year-old woman. She decided to get right to the point.
    â€œDo you ever mix things up a bit?” Mrs. Tannenbaume did not look at Putzie directly so as not to scare the poor fellow. “You know, when you’re having a situation?”
    â€œA situation?”
    Raymond jumped in. “You know,” he said. “The hoo-hoo and the ha-ha.”
    â€œWell,” Putzie said, his head swiveling from Raymond to Mrs. Tannenbaume, “as a matter of fact, my wife does like a certain position—”
    â€œFrom behind?”
    Putzie winced. “How did you—”
    â€œMost women like it that way,” Mrs. Tannenbaume said. “So that the man is breathing on the back of your head and not right smack into your puss. Plus, most women don’t like to feel a man’s rough beard against their face. It hurts.”
    Putzie’s pained look worsened. “Well, actually, she likes it from behind standing up. She’s got a bum knee and can’t . . . kneel down, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œSo why don’t you give it to her standing up?”
    Putzie really squirmed now. It looked to Mrs. Tannenbaume like he would do anything to get out of the conversation. The poor man. He really did need to let go of these hang-ups. She decided to get to the heart of the matter.
    â€œWhat don’t you like about doing it from behind? Does it smell a bit too French for you back there?”
    â€œNo, it’s not that. Mitzi’s as clean as a whistle.”
    â€œSo what’s the matter?” Mrs. Tannenbaume stood there with her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer. Then she slapped the palm of her hand smack into her forehead. “Oh! I should have guessed it earlier.”
    Putzie looked up. Mrs. Tannenbaume could tell that he seemed horrified that she might know of his shameful secret. “What?”
    â€œYou’re too short!” Mrs. Tannenbaume said. “Why didn’t you say so earlier, love?”
    Putzie slumped down in a chair while the Martinizing machines roared away. Mrs. Tannenbaume felt Putzie’s pain. She knew that every woman wants her man to bend her over the kitchen table every now and again. But with Mitzi’s long legs—dancer’s legs—Putzie simply couldn’t reach. The poor man. Too short to take care of his own wife. She knew what that meant—some other man, a man with longer legs, was most likely “servicing” Mitzi.
    She reached over and put her hand on Putzie’s shoulder. “You need to mix things up a bit, son. You mustn’t be so rigid.”
    Putzie looked up at Mrs. Tannenbaume with moist eyes. “You know something? You’re right, Mrs. Tannenbaume. I’m sick and tired of being rigid. It’s time to think outside the box, right?” Putzie