Yesterday before noon Chicago time, I got mugged.
Should have seen it coming. Practically did see it coming. Ringleader kept pace with me for a while, but watched him appear to move on before checking to see if the bus was coming. Grabbed from behind by that one about the neck, two more came from varying 45 degree angles. Kind of a velociraptor pack after a triceratops or what-have-you.
It would be, I think, somewhat humorous to see on video. One tried to hit me with my own rather heavy suitcase, but couldn’t get the momentum going. A bottle to the nose; didn’t break–kind of bounced off (though it hurt). One tried, once they had knocked me down, to start a Big Fellas style stompathon. This was quickly aborted when the stompee started kicking towards the stompers’ crotches while shouting in order to draw attention to the scene.
They ran off finally. All the while I stubbornly held onto what I thought was my cell and mp3 player but was only the earphones and part of the jacket. They managed to cut off a large portion of the jacket and run off with it. But they didn’t get the wallet, the bag, the suitcase, the other stuff in the other half of the jacket.
Not as bad as it sounds. Surprised the bottle didn’t give me two shiners. If I had listened to the impulse to be more offensive, less defense, I doubt I’d have been able to continue my journey. Two of them, at least, were juveniles. This is how it works. The older hoods use the juvies because their records get sealed when they turn 18. They sell the cellphones for probably $20.
All of this happened less than half an hour, I think, after a few tweets regarding the post below this one and how it could have been used in Afghanistan throughout the 80s, into the 90s.
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