Several Halloweens ago I was sitting in front of Mekong restaurant on Prince Street. It was a warm night. My friends and I watched the parade of costumes. We were having a good time, until a Batman sat next to our lady friend. The Caped Crusader aggressively kissed Jane and then he stole my beer. A Stella. Women were sacred. Beer was holy.

“Jane, you know this guy.”

“No.” Jane seemed horrified.

I told the intruder to push off and Barman retorted with an unkindly expletive about my age. I was only 47.

“Leave it off.” My friends’ kids were at the table. I didn’t want them to witness a fight, plus my knee was shot from B-ball and I needed a cane to hobble around the streets. Still it was only Batman without Robin or Catwoman, so I said, “This isn’t your table.”

“Fuck off, you old git.” Batman grinned like the Joker.

The word ‘git’ ended the discussion. Git was my word. I seized Batman’s cape and threw him into street. He swung my cane at my head. I grabbed it out of his hand, but he snatched my glasses, running away, “Nah-na-na-nah-na.”

It sounded mockily like Stream’s hit TELL HIM GOODBYE

I was in no condition to chase him.

Shannon came out of the bar. He was a good decade younger and several inches taller. We were friends since the Milk Bar. He and I played basketball together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Batman stole my glasses.” I felt a little like the Daredevil. Cane and nearsighted.

“I’ll go get him.” Shannon loped down the street.

Batman was laughing at the gate to St. Patricks. Shannon told him to give back the glasses. Batman threw a punch. Shannon KOed Batman. One punch. Batman laid on the sidewalk like he was sleeping in Bruce Wayne’s bed.

Shannon returned to Mekong and said, “Here’s your glasses.”

“Thanks.”

“I be going.” Shannon didn’t need to speak with the police.

My hero.

My money is always on the Bunny Versus Batman.