Law and Disorder

Last night I was enjoying cocktails with The Neighbor, as we're wont to do, when I heard The Child hollering across the fence.

"MOM! MOM! Dad got robbed!"

Abandoning my drink, I flew home to find The Spouse, shaken and awaiting the cops.

Mercy, says you. What was he doing? Had he been down in Pioneer Square carousing and got himself rolled in a dark alley? Was he walking through the center of an unlit park where drug traffic is known to flourish? Was he loitering outside an abandoned building in the industrial district?

No. He was walking home from work and half a block from our house.

Two young men (one taller than The Spouse, the other shorter...both assholes) asked if he knew the time. (How stupid do you have to be to invite a mark to know the exact time of the commission of your crime, btw?) He obliged and kept walking, because that's the sort of thing you do in your own relatively safe neighborhood at 5:37pm on a weeknight. Next thing he knew they came up behind him and sorta surrounded him. They said they had a gun. They took his wallet, his cell and briefcase, then casually strolled off up the street as if nothing had happened.

Say it with me: "Bastards!"

The early part of our evening was spent giving the police a report (him) and cancelling bank cards and cell service (me). There was also some shaking and shuddering (mutual).

The middle part of the evening was spent being really frakking upset (him) and listening (me).

He did say that he was interested in some vengeance. I suggested that, while a reasonable response, perhaps he would be better served allowing the authorities to handle it. "What if I became a superhero first?"

"That would be ok then".

"I could wear a cape".

"No, no capes".

But mostly he was really, really pissed. This morning he is still really, really pissed. Of course he is. There are layers to it, you see. First is just the simple fact of the violation of YOUR neighborhood, YOUR freedom to just frakking walk home from work without being assaulted, coupled with the whole fearing-for-your-life thing that happens when someone takes your stuff after threatening you with a gun. Then there's the whole annoying business of being the one who has to do all the work of making calls and wasting time at the DMV to get a new license and spending time at work getting a new badge and all that. Because really, how is that possibly fair? Take my money, sure, but come on. You know I'm just going to cancel all my cards the second I'm able. You'll get nothing out of it and it'll be a headache for me so work with me here.

And then this morning there was another layer of annoyance as he realized that they got his lunch bag, his coffee mug and - and this really got him going again - his gloves and scarf.

Of course, there is good news in all this. First and foremost is that my husband wasn't injured or killed. Stuff is stuff. He'd be a little less easy to replace. Second, he is notoriously difficult to shop for; Christmas shopping will be a little easier this year. Third, he had left his iPod at work yesterday. If he wants, he can add today's Jukebox to his playlist. It suits his mood.



Bon Jovi "Wanted Dead or Alive"