graceland's Diaryland Diary

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Suckuary Part 2

...continued...

At approximately 11:30 the gruff sounding stranger called me back. He said that he had my wallet and it's contents; that he found it on top of his car.

I assured him that I did not leave my wallet on top of his car, it had been stolen. After he detailed my belongings in the wallet, I asked him if there was cash in it. He said no and asked if there had been.

He said he didn't take the cash and I assured him, I didn't think that he did, since he was calling to return it.

I asked him when I could pick up my wallet from him and he said not until the following morning at 7:45am - he was already home in Long Island and wouldn't be back in my work neighborhood until after his shift. I assume he was a cop or a fireman.

In the meantime, I had to move forward and freeze my bank account and cancel my checks because who knows if it was an elaborate scheme to buy time and empty my accounts?
*~*
Let me tell you what goes on when you've been pickpocketed. First of all, you feel stupid because you've seen it done in ever movie from Oliver Twist to Gangs of New York. You think you'd know, you'd feel it. Then you are pissed, because someone targeted you and they ROBBED you. They effing ROBBED you and that's bullshit. If you're going rob me, be a MAN about it. Stick me up. Don't steal like a coward.

That's just how you feel. You begin to feel more and more frustrated when everyone who hears that you've been pickpocketed asks you a million questions making you feel even worse, like, "Well, didn't you feel it?" "Why wasn't your purse zipped?" "Maybe it feel out?"

Or your parents, "You really should be more mindful" and "You should never carry that much cash anyway." That's my favorite one. There were a lot of questions about why I'd be carrying so much cash - almost implying that I asked to be robbed. That was my favorite one.

And of course, there are the do-gooders. "Well, at least you are getting your wallet back." Yeah, in a day. Less $200. Great.

I think the topper to this whole story would have been that evening when my Mom checked in. The highlights:

- she insisted that I cannot go meet this man on my own.
- that was followed by her telling me that I couldn't meet him along because he was going to "take me down"
- upon asking her what exactly "take me down" means, she explained that he was going to extort me to pay him to get my license back

Now why would he make me pay him for my license back? Who cares? I told him that I had no money and that I froze all of my accounts regardless so he knows I can't get money out. She didn't care.

- someone was to go with me to the arranged location
- that person would travel in a separate taxi so that we couldn't be pinned together
- I would have worked out a "trouble" signal with that person so that in the event of a "situation" the other person would have a description of the man and run directly into the police station on the corner for help

I swear to God, the woman said all of this. The Queen of pragmatists threw this all on the table.

Everything is so clear now. My mother has spent my entire life masquerading her insanity, leading me to think that I just randomly picked up my insane tendencies when all along - I am her!

I need to study her. She's had us all fooled all these years and frankly, she may be the battiest of the bunch.

More to come on "Operation Retrieve Wallet."

11:53 p.m. - 2006-02-09

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