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REENIES
MUGGING ADVENTURE
 ***************************************************************************************************** About a year after I graduated high school, I volunteered for some overtime on Saturday at my job in Manhattan (Arthur Andersen tax department). I knew I shouldn’t have taken the A-train on a Saturday morning, being so deserted and going through a tough neighborhood, but I didn’t really want to take all those buses to the E train. I figured as long as I’m in the car with the conductor I would be safe, and I would only get on an express train, so it would be quicker. I was a girl scout when I was younger and I know that safety counts!! So, I thought I had all the precautions covered. As an added safety measure, I stayed down by the token booth guy until the bell rang to signal that the train was coming. So I went up the stairs (this was 80th-77th station – Hudson Street, right before you go into the tunnel) and when the train came, it was the Train To The Plane and kept right on going (JFK to Manhattan, skipping everything after the airport). Well, I figured the A or CC would come along pretty soon, so I started walking towards where the front of the train would be – the 77th street side. I didn’t know it at the time (but soon found out) that the token booth on the 77th street side is closed on the weekend and you can only exit through one of those deathtrap like iron bar revolving doors. So I sat down on a bench pretty close to where the front of the train would be and lit a cigarette. Out of the far end of the 80th street side (way beyond the stairs) a tall, skinny, kid started to walk towards me. I really thought he was going to just ask me for a cigarette, and the worst part was that I was really going to give it to him; probably even light it for him. But instead, he grabbed my duffel bag which contained my pocketbook, books, and a lot of other stuff. Luckily, this was Saturday, and I was able to wear dungarees and sneakers. I might not have been so fast on high heels. My immediate response was to grab it back and question the youth (I think this was after I learned to curse). So I told him, "Okay, you can have all my money, but you can’t have anything else in this bag." He agreed, and when he let go, I turned and ran as fast as I could towards the nearest exit. Well, he clipped me at the top of the stairs and I twisted around on the way down, jumping backwards down the stairs trying to kick him where he would never forget. Good thing we always had stairs in our house when we grew up (good practice)! Also, it’s a good thing it was February and I had a lot of wrapping around my head and neck with a thick scarf! Anyway, we ended up on the bottom landing and he was on top of me with his hands around my neck. On the way down, it dawned on me that this guy might have a weapon, and I started getting a tad scared so I curled my knees up as tight as I could and catapulted him in the chest, but I was losing strength and only got him back up halfway. By the way, this was about 7:30 in the morning and the supermarket wasn’t even opened below the elevated railroad track, so there was nobody around at all; but actually that was only the back of the supermarket, too. Most of Liberty Avenue was deserted most of the time anyway (just backs of stores from the other avenues) Liberty Avenue……how ironic I am being mugged there. I knew nobody would help me. He jumped back down, yes, jumped and of course landed on top of me. So I told him, "Okay, I’ll give you the money this time." Again, he agreed. So as soon as he got up off me I ran to the exit. Damn those iron bars!!! It was so close, but too heavy, and I was getting slightly worn out (felt like I was playing my brother in a death or nothing championship tournament in handball by this time!). Well, needless to say he got me again. There really was no room to get some much needed speed; we were only a few feet away from the exit. This time he got me around the neck and pushed me up to the side of the metal wall with his thumb in my windpipe through the holes in the knitted scarf. He was pissed and getting impatient by now. I think when he said "I’m going to choke the life out of you, bitch" that’s when I opened my wallet for him and he took out $25 and ran away. I can’t believe why I fought for $25.00. But it was more than that for me. I didn’t even really know how much money I had on me at the time. I don’t think I would have mattered if I had nothing or a million dollars. My first response was, "How dare this punk think he can do this?" And he WAS stupid, too. I mean I tricked him twice! Well, after he ran away, I collapsed and started crying and then I wearily pushed open the iron bars, sat on the top of the steps and looked down the avenue in the direction he ran. Thinkin to myself man, what has this neighborhood turned into? With tears welling up again, I walked the five or six blocks back home. But I knew my father was home. Actually I stopped crying by the time I hit 101st ave (only one block down............ where the mafia bar was on the corner. It was kinda early so no one was hangin out outside, but I'll tell ya, those old Italian guys that liked to whistle at me when I walked past getting the train in the morning and sometimes back at night, and who I shared a toast or two with on the way home on occasion, would have been MIGHTY upset at that news, if ya get my drift. I was more mad than upset by then, but the minute I saw my father, the whole thing came back. Well, he got me in the car to cruise the neighborhood looking for the mugger. Of course, we reported it to the police and talked to the token booth guy, but I had to go to work, so my father drove me to the E train ( the safe train). Believe me I was ready for a fight then if anyone looked at me wrong!. When I got into work that morning (late of course), I can still remember the look on their faces when I told them why I was late. I am pretty sure my dad called them and explained when I was on my way in the second time though, but they still couldn’t believe I came into work after all that. Well, I told them, "Hey, he didn’t kill me." On a side note, that was when I just got my first permanent secretary position after what they called, floating, for about six months, and in about three years after that I was supervising all the secretarial staff in the tax department (about 35 ppl). Back to the story. The police never caught him. They wanted me to go to see mug shots, but I’d have to take the A-train into Bed/Sty at night. Then they said the guy they thought it might be was already in jail. They were never going to find him, so why should I risk my life again? I still took the train after that, but pretty much only on rush hours, which was a nightmare in itself! I do believe this was his first mugging, however, and I hope I taught him a lesson that some people do fight back. He seemed really scared, himself, but that’s no excuse. Maybe he stopped, who knows. I hope so.
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