Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Robbed

Dear miserable, irrelevant, ever-fucking diary. I got robbed on the way home tonight. I was getting on the Red Line at the Chicago Ave. stop, people were shoving and pushing and some fucking horrifically cliché 18-25 year old black male and an unseen accomplice ran a quick distract and pick pocket scheme on me. I lost the entire contents of my everyday wallet, including my driver's license and social security card. I called the credit card companies even before I called the police and the stupid fuckers had managed, in less than an hour and a half, to try five times to use my mastercard, capital one, and discover cards. Fortunately for my poverty they were declined as none of them had sufficient credit available to buy the electronic equipment they were trying to get. They were fast though, and so good that you almost had to admire them. They were able to successfully buy gas and $14 worth of food on the mastercard. They got $10 in cash and a CTA card worth about $7. And of course all my other fucking ID and insurance shit. And Beth's check which she stopped payment on and a check from the Norlands for $100, which we still have to call about. They were fast, and when they did it, it was so un-aggressive and so unexpected that it was really perfect. The skill to do that little trick didn't come in a day or probably even in a year. They were pros. Fucking birds of prey. And I feel like the bleating little sheep. I haven't been able to sit still or eat anything since it happened. I feel jittery, nervous, and like I have to vomit. I'll never sleep tonight in a million years. I really need something at work with a keyboard that I can write this shit with, because this whole journaling thing is cool but really hard to do with just a lame little pointer. I have this whole concept of writing emails and stuff on the L, but mostly it's just a phone book and music device. It's password protected, so that's something, but who knows. I feel nervous about carrying ANYTHING now. Anything that sets me apart from the other sheep. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I want desperately to look like a poor nobody. Maybe that's just a stupid notion, but maybe not. I really hate the idea of taking the train and the ever-fucking bus, but what am I supposed to do? I'm not going to be able to do that Red Line thing again. I'll never be able to relax. I always thought living in the city would make me hard. You know, streetwise, aware, ready for anything, bitter, jaded (well, it HAS done those things)… Instead it has made me lazy and complacent. What a fucking kick in the ass. My first reaction was to buy a gun, or a knife, or something that I could use to hurt the people who did this to me. Then after a moment it steadily became clear to me that these people, for all their greasy guile, really meant me no harm. They didn't threaten or do anything aggressive when they robbed me. That, perhaps, may have made me feel slightly more worthy. Instead, they just reached in and took my wallet like I was the biggest, dumbest, most complacent and unobservant sheep in the world. What do you buy yourself to protect yourself from this sort of shit? A GPS for your wallet? I really liked that wallet, too. Fuck. It was like some horrible magic trick where the magician never brings back the rabbit.