Mugged. I got mugged.

These two little shits...kids. Maybe 17 or 18. Maybe younger. I was responding to a text and the one kid walked up and grabbed my iPhone out of my hands. At first I didn't believe it. I turned around and started screaming and chasing him. Screaming so loud, hoping that someone would be there, that someone would hear and stop him.

Then the other one came up from behind me and grabbed my purse. I knew it was wrong, but I fought him for it. He didn't expect me to fight either. He hit me over the head with the heel of his hand. He told me to let go, to give it up. I screamed louder and louder, "NO! No, I will give you the wallet just let me have the rest! This is all I have!" I just wanted my house keys so I could go home.

I was kicking him, pulling at my purse and aiming at his genitals. I missed and missed again and then suddenly I was on the ground, clutching for dear life at my bag. I bought that purse in France. It was cheap but I loved it. I didn't want to lose it. Then he said he had a gun. I didn't believe him and kicked at him some more, but then it registered in my brain that it was a bad idea to assume he did not have a gun. I let go. He ran off and I chased them, West on Sterling, South on Classon, then turned left to go East on St. John. Screaming my head off.

I lost sight of them. A nice man heard my cries for help and stopped me. He reminded me it was a bad idea to follow someone who kicked me to the ground, hit me over the head and threatened me. I saw them up the block. I was so livid that I started to go, but he stopped me again. I started crying. He called 911 but standing there, all defeated and rained on and without a phone or a house key I just wanted something familiar.

I went to the Sound Scientist's house. I knew he would be home and he was. He let me in, let me breathe, let me sit down, called the police. He gave me a beer and I drank half of it in two sips. I was filthy from the street. I was all scraped up on my hip and my knee and my elbow and my head hurt where the little shit had hit me.

The police came. They were great. They cruised me around to look for the kids but of course we didn't find them. They brought me to the precinct, where I learned that two boys fitting my description had just mugged someone else on Vanderbilt Avenue, not far from where it had happened to me. The detectives were awesome, and while they processed my report they let me have full access to a computer so I could change all my passwords, shut off my phone, shut down my credit and debit cards, access phone numbers in my emails (thank goodness I save everything). I called my mom. I called Aunt J. I called my roommate a million times (she didn't pick up until waaaay later after the other roommate received an email from me and called her). Everyone rallied for me.

Roommate wouldn't be home until far later, so I went back to the Sound Scientist's house. We drank beer. We rehashed. We ran out of beer, then Roommate called so we went home. I changed, dressed my wounds and freshened up, then we got more beer and a pack of cigarettes. We went back to his house and got drunk and watched Shaun of the Dead. Then he walked me home.

All I gotta say is that if it weren't for him I'd be going crazy right now. He didn't have to do much to take care of me, but just being there with me and not leaving me alone... Well it was enough. He's such a good friend, a good person.

I'm okay, for now. Tomorrow... we'll see.