Was going to mention the cold weather
Frost, crunchy grass, clouds of breath, morning light, etc, etc. But I was mugged on Saturday night, and that's much more interesting.
First of all, let me assure you all that I am fine, barely a scratch on me except a little pain in my side where I landed when they knocked me over. There was about £40 in my wallet, £15 on my travel card and maybe a fiver on my work card. If you value the phone at £40, then I'm £100 down on the deal. I've cancelled the bank cards and so on, and the muggers can't use the phone or travel card, so they're only £40 up on the deal. Not very good economics, is it? I've also lost things like loyalty cards, my blood donor and organ donor card and photos of my family and the Special One.
Anyway, the nitty-gritty: I was walking home from a night out, almost home, and I took my phone out to perhaps text the Special One, who is on holiday in France. Two lads came up to me and started talking, one in front of me, one slightly off to the side. The guy to my side nipped my wallet out of my back pocket and as I turned to him, his buddy pushed me over, grabbed my dropped phone and off they scarpered. I briefly gave chase, but realised after a couple of metres that there was no way I was going to catch them, and, more importantly, that catching them wasn't going to be good for me. Better to cut my losses while I'm not too far behind, so to speak, and, in fairness, it was a fairly gentle bit of street crime, as street crimes go.
I spent much of the next day walking to the local cop shop - it's miles out of the way, just what you'd want from the local law enforcement - and filling out a crime report, not because I expect they cops to catch these two, but because it's important for insurance, security, etc, and I'd nothing else to be doing that day. Experience new things, meet new people, that sort of thing. The local cop shop has a regular waiting room, then, in front of the two counters, is a set-up of bullet-proof glass and security doors that can only be opened by the duty officer from behind his counter (and more bullet-proof glass), meaning that you can't get to the counter without permission; nor can you leave the counter, which I found slightly creepy.
The duty officer asked me to describe the two boys, the scene, etc - the usual, I suppose - and also asked what my ethnic origin was, what was the IIB number of my phone, why I hadn't reported it immediately (it was late, I was tired) and whether I had any of their DNA, which I found rather amusing. While down there, though, I realised that cops have to approach such matters from a different point of view to mine, with the intention of solving every crime, catching every two-bit, toe-rag mugger. If they were as lassaiz-faire about it as me, they'd be unable to do their jobs.
Should I be so apathetic about it? Last night, when I was feeling a little cross about the matter, I found myself wishing I was able to indulge in a little Daily Wail indignation - bring back flogging, etc - but what's the point? We're all aware of the causes of crime and so on; this is just the price of living in a big city these days, and all I've lost is £100 and a couple of keepsakes - it's just stuff, I haven't been injured or anything else. In fact, the only thing that's upset me at all about this is the thought of telling the Special One, because she will think I've been hurt, and that will upset her.
First of all, let me assure you all that I am fine, barely a scratch on me except a little pain in my side where I landed when they knocked me over. There was about £40 in my wallet, £15 on my travel card and maybe a fiver on my work card. If you value the phone at £40, then I'm £100 down on the deal. I've cancelled the bank cards and so on, and the muggers can't use the phone or travel card, so they're only £40 up on the deal. Not very good economics, is it? I've also lost things like loyalty cards, my blood donor and organ donor card and photos of my family and the Special One.
Anyway, the nitty-gritty: I was walking home from a night out, almost home, and I took my phone out to perhaps text the Special One, who is on holiday in France. Two lads came up to me and started talking, one in front of me, one slightly off to the side. The guy to my side nipped my wallet out of my back pocket and as I turned to him, his buddy pushed me over, grabbed my dropped phone and off they scarpered. I briefly gave chase, but realised after a couple of metres that there was no way I was going to catch them, and, more importantly, that catching them wasn't going to be good for me. Better to cut my losses while I'm not too far behind, so to speak, and, in fairness, it was a fairly gentle bit of street crime, as street crimes go.
I spent much of the next day walking to the local cop shop - it's miles out of the way, just what you'd want from the local law enforcement - and filling out a crime report, not because I expect they cops to catch these two, but because it's important for insurance, security, etc, and I'd nothing else to be doing that day. Experience new things, meet new people, that sort of thing. The local cop shop has a regular waiting room, then, in front of the two counters, is a set-up of bullet-proof glass and security doors that can only be opened by the duty officer from behind his counter (and more bullet-proof glass), meaning that you can't get to the counter without permission; nor can you leave the counter, which I found slightly creepy.
The duty officer asked me to describe the two boys, the scene, etc - the usual, I suppose - and also asked what my ethnic origin was, what was the IIB number of my phone, why I hadn't reported it immediately (it was late, I was tired) and whether I had any of their DNA, which I found rather amusing. While down there, though, I realised that cops have to approach such matters from a different point of view to mine, with the intention of solving every crime, catching every two-bit, toe-rag mugger. If they were as lassaiz-faire about it as me, they'd be unable to do their jobs.
Should I be so apathetic about it? Last night, when I was feeling a little cross about the matter, I found myself wishing I was able to indulge in a little Daily Wail indignation - bring back flogging, etc - but what's the point? We're all aware of the causes of crime and so on; this is just the price of living in a big city these days, and all I've lost is £100 and a couple of keepsakes - it's just stuff, I haven't been injured or anything else. In fact, the only thing that's upset me at all about this is the thought of telling the Special One, because she will think I've been hurt, and that will upset her.
posted by exileonpatrickstreet at 5:09 pm
2 Comments:
I admire your ability to keep perspective, and your liberal beliefs, after being attacked. Especially in the post-shock anger phase. (you know me, I´d be hosting community alert meetings, subscribing to the mirror, voing Fianna Gael and perhaps taking up vigilanteism). You´re not going to tell Lynn while she´s abroad are you? Good to know you´re alright anyway.
Cheers Podge. I did tell her though, because she'd have wondered why I didn't call otherwhise. She brought me home a present and all: a wallet.
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