Saturday, January 30, 2010

you messed with the wrong bitch, bitch.

One year and a day ago, someone tried to mug me.

January 29, 2009 was my last official day with WaMu as we had all gotten laid off. I was drunk from happy hour in the city with my co-workers and stumbled home to my apartment in Berkeley. I was opening the door to my building with my purse hooked on my arm at the elbow when someone grabbed my purse and pulled hard.

I turned around to face the criminal. It was a girl. A girl way bigger than me. My thoughts in that moment:
• this bitch does not deserve my Marc Jacobs bag
• the camera in my bag has a lot of pictures I want, nay, need to put on Facebook
• I just got a new driver's license after losing my old one in Vegas and I really don't want to be sober while waiting for a new one to come in the mail

But my initial observation was actually the deciding factor for my response: There is no fucking way I am going to lose shit to a woman. I'm sorry but you're going to have to be armed or a man to get my shit.

So I clamped my hands together so my purse was secured on my arms at all times. She kept pulling. Relentless. Either I was pulled to the ground or fell or tried to anchor myself. She dragged me a good six feet by the bag that was still hooked on my elbow, kicking me.

I was screaming and some passersby started shouting and running towards us. Her accomplice, who was standing by and watching, panicked and started running and soon after my would-be mugger ran off after her without any of my belongings.

The police came and to ask me what she looked like. I described her tan sweater, her jeans, her red sneakers, her husky build. I then told the officer the most accurate and helpful description I could muster:

"She actually looks just like Macy Gray."
He paused. Then radio-ed his fleet saying "she looks like Macy Gray."

They found her at the 7-11 a few blocks away within five minutes.

Every time I hear her one hit single, "I Try," I can't help but change the lyrics:

Turns out she was a minor. I'm glad I resisted because how embarrassing would it be to get mugged by a female child (regardless of her being twice my size)?

Being drunk saved me in this situation. If I were sober, I probably would have given her my stuff because of the pain from her tugging on my arm and dragging me and kicking me. As I sobered up that night, my shoulder, neck, back and arms became so sore.

Here are some of my battle wounds (I swear they were worse in person):
I was debating about whether or not to tell my parents because I didn't want them to worry but turns out I was the one worrying over nothing. I called my mom and this is exactly how the conversation went:

Me: Mom, someone tried to mug me last night.
Mom: Wha? Mug?
Me: You know, attacked me to steal my purse.
Mom: Hold on; I have another call. [puts me on hold for a few minutes before the call is disconnected/she hangs up on me.]

I called back later (she seemed to have forgotten she was on the phone with me) and all she asked was, "But she didn't get anything, right? Let me know so I can cancel your credit card."

I think this was a character-building experience. In one job interview, someone asked me to "tell [them] about [my]self." I responded, "I am always true to myself and what I believe in. Example: one time someone tried to mug me and I resisted. I don't support crime." Answers like that may or may not have been the reason why it took me so long to find a job.

UPDATE 2/25/10: