Gettin mugged. the worst bit is when they put their hand over your mouth to muffle the scream. I mean, where the fuck has that hand been?

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I guess I have been mugged three times. Two times they got nothing cos there was nothing to get. Once in NYC they got about twenty bucks and bunch of valium. That’s the one that really pissed me off. I’ll tell you that one first cos that’s the first one, the NY one.
It was Veteran’s Day Late 70s or early 80s. Lots of Vietnam vets getting good and drunk cos everyone got them drinks for free. Some didn’t have legs and stuff. Propelled themselves on skateboards with paper hanging out of their mouths that said “I was in Nam. Please give.” One guy I always gave to cos he was a really bad hand skateboard mover. He fell off a lot. I usually gave him a buck or so. The others could have been fake or real but the point is, I was on a shitty wage and could only afford to give money, and only a little, to one homeless guy a day.
So I’d given money to the less adept hand skateboarder, and was walking around the West Village with Carrie. I saw this guy, on the sidewalk, bleeding from the head, and he was goin help, help, and everyone was walking by cos they just thought oh he’s a VA drunk. And what was Vietnam about anyway? Why did you go?
These were young idiots who didn’t know young men at the time really didn’t have a choice if your number came up and you didn’t have a rich relation in the medical profession to declare you nuts or gay, or both. Or you didn’t hottail it to Canada. Hey Mister Draftboard, I don’t wanna go,” sang David Peel, who was probably not the
right age at the right time anyway.
So I could not pass the bleeding guy, no matter what I thought of the war. Carrie I think had to go, I can’t remember where she was the rest of the story. I threw my bag on the pavement and said, “Bleeding guy, how can I help you” and he goes “I have no insurance” and I go I don’t mean that, I mean, do you want water, tissues, a drink, a valium, what?” And he didn’t answer, the blood was really kinda gushing at this point. So I got out my Kleenex and put it to the bit of the head that was bleeding the most.
“Oh for fucks sake,” he says, “Not Kleenex, they stick and shit. Then they gotta cut em out with all your hair and stuff”
“Oh , wow, sorry, I don’t know first aid or anything.”
“But I will have a valium,” he said. So I went to look at my bag that I’d thrown on the pavement and saw it was no longer there. During the administration of the Kleenex to the bleeding head,some scumbag had taken my bag. Neither of us had noticed. I said “Fuck fuck fuck I’ve been mugged” and bleeding guy said “technically that was not mugging. He or she didn’t use a weapon or threaten you or hurt you, they just took your bag.”
The fact that he was so articulate struck me that perhaps he was not bleeding to death. That perhaps it was a flesh wound and I had over reacted. We both said nothing but sighed heavily.
“So , was like, the valium in your bag?”
“Yeah.”
“So you can’t help me?”
“No, not anymore, I’ve been liked mugged, or robbed or something. Bleeding guy, sorry bout the Kleenex and insurance and stuff, but this is like a new crisis, I have to get home and I have no keys or money or valium or ID”
“Yeah, well, at least you weren’t in the fuckin Nam,” he said.
I had to agree, on the wider scale, he deserved more pity than I. TBC

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