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