Last night was a good evening. A good friend of mine celebrated her birthday, and we went out and I tried to settle a score I have with the owners of this pub I use to go to, and everything seemed like another night out.. At about four in the morning I ventured home, tired and considerably drunk and kind of pissed off that I hadn’t got laid with that blonde I was talking to earlier, when I realized that someone had stepped on and broken my umbrella.
What can you do?
I threw it away, knowing that it cost about a 100 Norwegian crowners.
I came to my part of town, to Urtegata and specifically Urtehagen when this guy jumped me and pushed me to the wall. Two other guys backed him up, and one of them was pretty big, so I did what you’re supposed to do – embalm yourself in a karma of calmness and passitivity. This guy who had jumped me was the aggressive one, playing the "bad cop" routine, and he told me to look to the ground. He smacked me twice when I instinctively looked up. I caught a glimpse of what could have been a knife. Good thing he didn’t use it.
He said that they were just out after cash and didn’t want anything else, so they took the cash (about 40 crowners I guess) and my credit card. They looked at other stuff, my cellphone (traceable), my notepad (I said I was a writer and implored them not to take it) and my tobacco. Do you smoke grass? Got any weed? one of them said. What a sucker. That’s information. But they fucking stole my tobacco anyhow, no weed in it.
"What are you doing here?" one of the bastards asked, if I were some west-side kid.
"I live here. You really don’t want to do this."
I picked up my library card, which had fallen to the ground, got a kick in the leg for doing it, so I receeded from any other salvaging. Kept my eyes down and my hands in my pockets, feeling that my key and my cellphone was returned. Then the aggressive one found the credit card.
– Hey asshole, what’s the code?
– Three three eight four.
That’s how you lie.
– Say the code again!
– Three three eight four. But I’m fucking poor, man, I barely have the money cover for food and rent.
– We need this money more than you do, shut the fuck up!
I was pushed to the wall again, and the aggressive one told me he was going to kill me if it was the wrong code. I nodded and played along, silently thinking that it would be rather hard for him to do so, as I would not follow him and take out my own money to him. You need to stay on top of the situation. He continued with his threats while I noticed that the other two guys were getting restless. You don’t want to hang around the scene of the crime too long.
– What’s the code again!
– Three three eight five.
Shit. I fucking forgot my own lie.
– That’s not the code you said earlier!
– Yes it is!
Luckily his memory wasn’t any better than mine.
"Write this down", the aggressive toddler told his accomplice.
– What’s the code?
– Three three eight five.
– Say it again!
– Three three eight five. Look, I’m broke, you won’t get anything from the card.
– How much is on yuor account?
– Maybe 7-800 crowners.
– Say the code again.
– Three three eight five.
He turned to the guy who had written down the code. He nodded to him. My lie was coherent.
– I don’t think we should let him go, the aggressive one said.
He definitely had it in for me from the start.
– I think we should take him down to my basement.
– Come on, man, let’s go, another one said.
– If this code is wrong, you’re a dead man, he said to me.
– You turn around and go, and don’t look back, my friend here will be following you.
I did as they said, walked fast knowing that on my cellphone I had the number to the International VISA-STOP service.
I am once again amazed over the talentless robbers I’ve met in my life. It seems talentless people are the only ones who robs a poor student. What did they get away with? 40 NOK, my tobacco and a useless credit card. And the chance of meeting me again, in broad daylight, and pretty pissed off.
This is the third time I’ve been robbed like this. My advice to you would be to never let go of the upper hand. As long as you’re not dealing with psychopaths, to which you must show the outmost obedience, you can play any situation against the attackers. It’s all a game. The thing is, even though they’re not going to kill you, they can hurt you pretty bad. So cooperate. Cooperation doesn’t mean stupidity, though. And don’t let them get to you. Yes, they’ve fucking overstepped a personal boundary, but as long as you defy the situation and refuse to be the victim, you are in control and not suggestible to the threats. Boost yourself. After all, they’re in need of you and not the other way around. Fucking suckers. They should get a good beating. Now I have to wait 2 weeks for a new card.
Man…Have ya told mom about it? Guess she’d force you to move or something..or just make you go home earlier. Did you ever feel Bene Gesserit-like when in-medias-res (during the ‘action’)? Sounded somewhat like it.
If feeling “Bene Gesserit-like” is equivalent to “being drunk and annoyed while keeping my temper”, then yes.
Miles Teg would’ve been ashamed. That heretic mother of his!