One of the things that I don’t think I’ve ever written (or blogged) or committed to paper is getting mugged….or robbed….when I was a teen. Pretty much I wonder each time I think about it, was I really mugged? I mean, I know I was robbed, but was I mugged AND robbed? Or just robbed?
The literal definitions:
Mugged: to assault or menace, especially with the intention of robbery.
Robbed: to take something from (someone) by unlawful force or threat of violence; steal from.
I remember seeing my father after he was mugged. It was the mid 90’s and if I remember correctly a dude on PCP tried to steal his girlfriend’s purse. That dude beat the HELL out of my dad. His face was all bruised up. My father apparently punched the guy in the nuts repeatedly – which had no effect (PCP) but that is what I would call a mugging.
My story was different.
It was 1989 or 1990? It was about 5pm – full daylight. Wing Stop was a bank. Little Caesars was at the end of the strip, where the liquor store is now. I parked in spot A (when it was a spot to park), the ATM is at point B. The timing was pretty crazy. I took out twenty or forty bucks out of the ATM. Right as I’m heading back to my car, out of the corner of my eye, a car pulls up to spot C and some dudes get out. One of them drops something that kind of goes “clank”. I’m naive and don’t think anything about it.
As I’m reaching to put my wallet in my back pocket (left pocket), I feel something at the back of my head. My first thought is “Uh, what?” as I (slow motion) look to my left, there’s a guy immediately next to me with his arm behind my head – and he says, “Give it up.” With the hand not holding a gun, he motions for my wallet and my keys. Let me tell you, what they say about adrenaline, etc, I dropped my wallet into my lap. I froze. You tend to do that when you’ve got a gun to your head.
He took my keys, and my wallet. Then he and his lookout sauntered back past the ATM (past a completely oblivious guy taking money out) and drove off.
So, I was pretty freaked out. Um, so was my date. Oooops. It was going to be pretty much our first date. Don’t ask me why I didn’t go get cash before the date. I am an idiot.
We got out of the car (since it obviously wasn’t going anywhere when those dudes took my keys). The guy who finished getting his money as the robbers drove away, turned. I said, “We just got robbed!” He looked surprised, and not knowing what to do just hightailed it out of there. So, we went to Little Caesars and called the police.
The police were nice, took my statement (I think. I don’t actually remember now). He dropped us off right down the street at Barney’s Billiards (one of my old haunts). The bartender offered me a shot of whiskey to calm my nerves. I didn’t take it.
Nobody was around my house, so I called my friend Brian. We decided since we had nothing else to do, we were going to go find something to eat.
Welllll, he needed cash. So. Uh. We went back to the ATM.
……
Okay, so my car is sitting there, (locked) and he gets his cash and we go eat. I think we went to BIBAS (One’s a Meal) – back when it was on Memorial. A few hours later my dad and I picked up the car with the spare key. I have to retell my idiot story several times. Everyone at my Toy Store job thought I was nuts (and we had to change all the locks). The police came to the Toy Store a few days later to ID the alleged/possible gunman.
Looking at a lineup of pics, I couldn’t ID the guy to save my life, but they said afterwards that they know who the driver of the car was (who didn’t happen to be the guy who actually robbed me). And that was pretty much the end of it. Never heard anything ever again.
