Sometimes things happen and you don’t know how to blog them, because they’re so unnerving and make you feel crazy.
So:
I got mugged yesterday.
I’m in the subway station, trying to buy a Metrocard. I see the kids, two of them, but I’m like, Eh, kids. And then as I’m at the ticket machine, I see, reflected in the screen, one of the kids behind me. So I turn around, and he walks away. At that point, I’m just thinking, Kids these days, just hangin’ out with nuthin’ to do. But I step away from the machine for a little bit, ’cause, well, I dunno, I just do. But I need a ticket, so I go back to the machine. And this time the other kid’s coming up to me, I feel his presence, I see the reflection in the screen, and before I can think anything or do anything, I feel my wallet slip out of my hand, so quickly, a flash, a bit, a nothing. They’re off running, I run after them, up the steps onto the street. It’s a great sunshiney blue-sky day and it’s Sunday morning and everyone’s out and about and there’s a diner at the top of the subway steps and people are eating in the open air. Suddenly I hear that I’m yelling, Stop him, Help me, He’s got my wallet, I don’t even know what I’m yelling, but I’m yelling. The kid’s off and running down the street. I know I’m not going to catch up. This guy on the street is carrying a baby, for no reason he’s the first person I wildly make eye contact with. He ducks into the diner to—I find out later—hand the baby off to his wife, then he comes out and says, “The kid in the white shirt?” And I say Yeah, and he tears off after him, but the kid’s got a massive head start and I just stand there, thinking, OK, what was in my wallet, what numbers do I have to call, crap, crap, crap. I start walking in the direction the kid was running in and I see that the second kid is just hanging out on the street so I go up to him and grab him by the shirt and I say, You were with him. And he’s all wide eyes, surprise, No, no, I wasn’t. And I’m not letting go of him, but he’s not even really struggling, and I see down the block that the guy with the baby and a couple of other guys have gotten that first kid. So I drag the second kid with me up to the guys, and I say, This kid was with him. And the kid’s saying, No, No, No. And one of the guys who helped out says, So why were you running? And the kid says, Because the lady said, Get him, he’s got my wallet, so I was chasing him. Man. Anyway, so, fast-forward to the end, I get my wallet back; the police are called; Jeff, whom I was going to meet for a quiet breakfast, comes to meet me and is the best thing to happen all day; we ride in a police car to the Seventy-eighth Precinct; we sit around for a while; they take my details; and it’s only been just over an hour since I left my apartment.
Some interesting things are: That I don’t remember feeling very much until we were all standing around waiting for the police, at which point I couldn’t stop trembling and I saw, reflected in a car window, that I was gripping my hands into such tight fists that my knuckles were white. That it was around then, too, that I noticed my mouth was completely dry. That when Jeff showed up, having booked it over in a cab, and gave me a hug, it was the best hug in the world.
It was also some kind of wonderful incredible that these people on the street, these complete strangers, my neighbors, I guess, all just kind of jumped in and helped, no hesitation, and then really didn’t care to stick around and be thanked profusely after. People can be crappy, but people can be really, really great.
The rest of the day everyone else I saw seemed to be living their normal lives, in a world different from mine. Or, well, same world, but it seemed like I was, I dunno, not fully there, just a body moving forward, because that’s what bodies do. I still feel a little crazy about the whole thing, but I guess that goes away?
So:
I got mugged yesterday.
I’m in the subway station, trying to buy a Metrocard. I see the kids, two of them, but I’m like, Eh, kids. And then as I’m at the ticket machine, I see, reflected in the screen, one of the kids behind me. So I turn around, and he walks away. At that point, I’m just thinking, Kids these days, just hangin’ out with nuthin’ to do. But I step away from the machine for a little bit, ’cause, well, I dunno, I just do. But I need a ticket, so I go back to the machine. And this time the other kid’s coming up to me, I feel his presence, I see the reflection in the screen, and before I can think anything or do anything, I feel my wallet slip out of my hand, so quickly, a flash, a bit, a nothing. They’re off running, I run after them, up the steps onto the street. It’s a great sunshiney blue-sky day and it’s Sunday morning and everyone’s out and about and there’s a diner at the top of the subway steps and people are eating in the open air. Suddenly I hear that I’m yelling, Stop him, Help me, He’s got my wallet, I don’t even know what I’m yelling, but I’m yelling. The kid’s off and running down the street. I know I’m not going to catch up. This guy on the street is carrying a baby, for no reason he’s the first person I wildly make eye contact with. He ducks into the diner to—I find out later—hand the baby off to his wife, then he comes out and says, “The kid in the white shirt?” And I say Yeah, and he tears off after him, but the kid’s got a massive head start and I just stand there, thinking, OK, what was in my wallet, what numbers do I have to call, crap, crap, crap. I start walking in the direction the kid was running in and I see that the second kid is just hanging out on the street so I go up to him and grab him by the shirt and I say, You were with him. And he’s all wide eyes, surprise, No, no, I wasn’t. And I’m not letting go of him, but he’s not even really struggling, and I see down the block that the guy with the baby and a couple of other guys have gotten that first kid. So I drag the second kid with me up to the guys, and I say, This kid was with him. And the kid’s saying, No, No, No. And one of the guys who helped out says, So why were you running? And the kid says, Because the lady said, Get him, he’s got my wallet, so I was chasing him. Man. Anyway, so, fast-forward to the end, I get my wallet back; the police are called; Jeff, whom I was going to meet for a quiet breakfast, comes to meet me and is the best thing to happen all day; we ride in a police car to the Seventy-eighth Precinct; we sit around for a while; they take my details; and it’s only been just over an hour since I left my apartment.
Some interesting things are: That I don’t remember feeling very much until we were all standing around waiting for the police, at which point I couldn’t stop trembling and I saw, reflected in a car window, that I was gripping my hands into such tight fists that my knuckles were white. That it was around then, too, that I noticed my mouth was completely dry. That when Jeff showed up, having booked it over in a cab, and gave me a hug, it was the best hug in the world.
It was also some kind of wonderful incredible that these people on the street, these complete strangers, my neighbors, I guess, all just kind of jumped in and helped, no hesitation, and then really didn’t care to stick around and be thanked profusely after. People can be crappy, but people can be really, really great.
The rest of the day everyone else I saw seemed to be living their normal lives, in a world different from mine. Or, well, same world, but it seemed like I was, I dunno, not fully there, just a body moving forward, because that’s what bodies do. I still feel a little crazy about the whole thing, but I guess that goes away?
posted by stellou at 2:02 AM
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