So, That Happened
I got robbed the other day. I was walking home and a guy came up behind me, grabbed the bag off my shoulder breaking the strap, turned and ran. He was with another guy, and I think they were probably teenagers, but I never got a really good look at them. I called the police when I got home and an officer came out to the house to take my report.
“What was in the bag?”
“Just a cheap phone and some peanuts that I feed to the squirrels in the park.” Oh, and the last vestiges of my sense of security, although that went without saying. He wrote it down and I said, “when they open that bag, they are going to be pissed.” That made the cop laugh.
“Do you remember what you paid for the bag?”
“Oh, nothing. I think my eye doctor gave it to me.” He laughed at that too, although now that I remember saying it, I don’t know why he didn’t just side-eye me. It’s sort of a strange fact, unless you know that the eye doctor was giving me a whole bunch of eyedrops and put them in a fanny pack provided by Bausch & Lomb or whoever. The cop didn’t ask for further details, so I didn’t elaborate.
“Do you need a copy of the report for insurance purposes?” This is where I would have laughed, except I was still a little subdued. Why yes, Officer; I have comprehensive coverage on all my nuts and legumes.
“No, I just thought I should … report it.”
“Okay, we’ll do an area patrol and see if we see some knuckleheads to have a talk with.”
And that was basically that.
One of the unfortunate aspects of it is that I only started carrying my phone with me on walks a couple of months ago after I saw a middle-aged weirdo riding a bicycle with a basket carrying a radio and a suspicious looking item in a garbage bag, playing Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot,” while miming chambering rounds in an invisible shotgun. Thus, I thought I should have some way of calling 911, should a peaceful afternoon go awry. When I saw the two knuckleheads running away with my bag, I realized that my plan had a slight flaw in it.
Weird thing #1: While walking the rest of the way home afterward, Monty Python’s “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” was the song in my head.
Weird thing #2: I’ve felt not one bit of anger over it. Mostly, my feelings are hurt. I’m not sure why that is.
Here is where blogging protocol requires me to write some meditative bullshit about how I still believe all people are basically good, but since I don’t believe that, I’m not going to say it. I believe some people are basically good and I believe some people are basically bad, and the key to a successful life is to structure things so you deal with as few of the latter as possible. You can’t account for everything though. Thus, the moral of the story is this: occasionally something bad will happen to you and you can’t do a damn thing to stop it, but if you’re lucky it will be one of those “it could have been worse” situations, though if someone says to you that it could have been worse, you will be somewhat disgusted by that person’s insipidness because that’s not at all a helpful sentiment, even if it’s accurate. Okay, so it’s not exactly the wisdom of Aesop, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
You know, in a perfect world all thefts would be as enjoyable and adorable as this:
Dog Steals Cabbage by crackrockcandy
You don’t have legume insurance? You are living on the edge!
I’m glad you’re ok.
Thank you. I don’t think I was in any danger, but it’s hard to say. Robbers are unpredictable. Well, the ones who are good at robbing are anyway.
It could have been worse – that could have been me, only I carry my whole life in my purse. And a cheap cell phone. How do you get by with toting so little? That could be my dog, too, if Betsy were taller and smarter. (Glad you are relatively unscathed.)
I don’t carry much when I walk, and fortunately I’m in the habit of keeping my house keys in my pocket. This has made me rethink what I carry in my purse, though. I’ll probably go through my wallet and take out anything that I don’t need to always have with me.
Goddammit, I still fall into the “all people are basically good” camp. Perhaps I’m just naïve and should get out and buy some legume insurance already.
It also wouldn’t hurt to look into a policy for your cabbage. Or ideally, one for all your leafy greens.
Thank goodness you’re okay and you didn’t have your wallet, with your credit cards and identification in the bag! The disappointment of the thief is the only consolation–although you would think he would have tried to snag a Coach bag rather than a free Bausch & Lomb tote.
In addition to the possibility of a thief being violent, the potential hassle of having to deal with identity-related crap (cancelling cards, getting a new driver’s ID) makes me even more mad when people do stuff like this than having cash stolen.
And yes, some incidents just don’t support having a happy moral ‘bow’ tied around them…
I briefly had the idea that when the two guys opened my bag and found a $30 cell phone and a bag of peanuts (unsalted ones, at that) that they realized Crime Doesn’t Pay and turned over a new leaf. Although it’s more likely that they tried to find someone with some cash to rob. And yes, I am very glad that I didn’t have to go through the hassle of losing a wallet. Just getting my cell service suspended was enough of a pain.
18 years ago I took the end of my thumb off with a table saw at work. During the ensuing convalescence numerous people decided to try to ease my pain with their own, or those that they know, tales of personal mutilation. It was not soothing in the least. So it pleases me to see that you are not being inundated with ‘I was robbed, too’ stories. And even if you’re not angry, I’d love to find those two knuckleheads and give them a bag of pain along with a satchel filled with anguish and misery. Alas, I’m sure the impotent rage of a demi-thumbed, middle-aged fat man from four thousand miles away isn’t much of a comfort, but it’s all I’ve got.
On the bright side I’ve never seen a dog so happy with bacon as that dog is with his cabbage.
I’ve watched that dog at least a dozen times. It’s when he comes into the frame from the side that kills me.
Just recently I read a story on someone’s blog (and I can’t now remember where) about how the writer had gone through the drive-through at a fast-food place. At the window the kid working the counter asked her what the extra hand controls in her car were for and she explained that she’s a paraplegic. To which he responded, “well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve got eczema.” Because that’s the same.
Your mutant rage warms my heart. (I meant to type “impotent rage” and made a mistake, but I think you might like “mutant” better so I’m leaving it.)
First, let me also express my gratefulness that you are safe and as sound as you started out. Now, I’ll get to the part where I make it all about me.
I really hate when people feel the need to one-up your personal tragedy, sickness, etc. If anyone pulls that crap anymore I just cart out the “I am not allowed to eat dairy” thing and that shuts them right up. Unless they’re a vegan, otherwise . . .
I had forgot about this until now but I actually know someone who pulled the “one-up” when a relative died. Her sister died and the niece was so distraught over her mother’s death she became sullen and bitter and lashed out at everyone. The sister/aunt said to me (I still cannot believe this) “It was my sister who died, I knew and loved her for 25 years more than her daughter did; you don’t see me acting like that.”
We have had a couple of strong-arm robberies and even an armed one in my complex and I feel myself being more cautious when I go out to feed the feral cats. I like to think if someone approached me that all my cats would attack them, but I guess that only happens in Disney movies. I keep thinking about getting a pocket-sized air horn but I’m afraid I’ll grab it in a panic and blow it in my own face.
I don’t think I’ve ever tried to one-up anyone’s tragedy, but I’ve probably me-tooed. I am prone to say asinine things in those situations. Once, upon hearing that a colleague was terminally ill, I idiotically said, “We don’t get along, but I certainly never wanted this to happen.” As if his cancer was the result of him annoying me on a daily basis. Fortunately, I didn’t say it to him but to another coworker who graciously ignored me.
That’s scary about your complex. Do be careful when you’re out. I don’t know about an air horn as you are probably also required by law to wear a hat shaped like cheese when you carry one, but maybe a personal body alarm wouldn’t be a bad idea. Jeez, this world.
PS. Cabbage Dog was a real treat.
He almost makes me a dog person.
Hooray for mutant rage!!! :-)
HULK AGREE!
Glad you didn’t get hurt or scared. That dog is cute (for a dog, that is!) but I can’t help to think I feel sorry for his/her owner, talk about smelly farts (dog+cabbage= yuck!!)
Oh, I was scared, but I usually fear teenagers anyway, so this was only a slight increase.
I think people are douches. Like that stupid song, “wrapped up like a douche in the middle of the night.”
Why were they singing about douches?
I digress… I’m sorry your bag was stolen. I always think I’m going to be all badass in such a situation other than the curse words coming out of my mouth, I’d be too afraid that I’d throw out my knee and would be left stranded on the sidewalk to fight them for my very unorganized bag complete with toilet paper and tire gauges. I mean, man, good toilet paper is very expensive in my hood.
Also, why would someone wrap up a douche? Valentine’s Day gift? That’s not a good gift.
It turns out that mine was one of a string of robberies that happened during a two-week period. It’s lucky that I was so startled I just stood there and watched them run away; a couple of people who resisted were knocked down and kicked a few times. Apropos of something, I took some cash out of the bank recently and had to resist the urge to stuff it in my underpants rather than put it in my purse.