It's Hard Out There for a Shrimp

This weekend, something happened that made me feel very small.  I always thought that I had a pretty good eye for people who are bad news.  (Well...I consider myself an expert in passing judgement on strangers.  So, there's that.)  But this weekend, I realized that spotting bad eggs is not the hard part.  The hard part is throwing them out.

On Friday, I was at a party at a friend's house.  A group of people walked in while I was in the kitchen getting some water - and as I walked out of the kitchen, one of them grabbed my shirt pretty forcefully and said, "Where you goin, pretty lady?"  I didn't say anything and got away as fast as I could.



When the party was winding down, it was time for a few of us girls to break out our Beyonce dance moves (not kidding).  Because it's really hard to hold your phone while dancing like Queen B, my friend put her phone down on her purse.  Their were four people in the room, three of whom were dancing like wild women and a fourth who was watching us and probably thinking we were insane.  I think I speak for all three of us dancing girls when I say that we do not regret this.  You do not come between college girls and our love of Beyonce.  Just accept it.

Well, at some point during our dance break, the party of strange people walked back in again.  And my friend's phone disappeared.  Losing a phone at a party is something that probably all of us have done.  You do the frantic pocket check, then go through the couch cushions.  And then you have the hosts cut the music so you can call the phone and listen to hear it ringing.  So that's what we did.  And then one of the strange guys' pockets started ringing.  He tried to cover it, and then bailed out as fast as he could.

I never thought to call the police - I wanted to believe that this guy didn't do it.
Some of the guys at the party tried to coerce the man into emptying his pockets - but the man was so large and intimidating that it just didn't work.

He got away.  One of the hosts called my friend's phone repeatedly, and twice, the man answered.  He answered with swear words.  Klassy!  One girl with much more patience for scary men than me had talked to one of them for awhile - I started asking her questions, thinking she might know something that could help us identify these people.
Her:  "They were Georgetown freshmen!"
Me: "Really?" because, lady, I'm sure you're bright, but they looked about thirty years old.
Her:  "Well, yeah, they said they were freshmen!"
Me:  "Oh, honey.  No.  I think they were lying."
Her:  "Yeah."

So we went through the motions of cancelling credit cards, calling the phone company, and reporting the incident to DPS.  Side note:  DPS is now known as GUPD.  I was leaving a voicemail while the officer was in the room - and as I said "We are here with a DPS officer" - the officer interrupted me and said, "Ma'm, we're now known as GUPD."  I'm sorry, sir, but the acronym was NOT IMPORTANT at the time.




The next day, we found out that these people had taken not one phone but two, plus a laptop, a camera, and an ipod.

There are some morals to this story:

1.  When someone is sketching you out, tell someone.  When some guy's first instinct is to grab me to keep me from getting away - that is a problem.  I should have told one of the hosts.  Heckle all you want - but don't touch me.
2.  When someone tells you they're a freshman, and they're obviously not, say something!  I would not have had the ladyballs to tell this guy that his story made no sense.  But if somebody else did, that would have stopped the heist real quick.
3.  DPS is kind of inept.  It's their job to keep campus safe.  And not only does this happen - but there's a sexual assault and an armed robbery reported this weekend in student housing, too.  DPS is obviously not a very strong deterrent to criminals.
4.  Don't let randos in your house.  I do not blame the hosts one bit for this - they were being gracious hosts, after all!  And I've done it, too - over the summer some "maintenance" guys came into my apartment to "something something mumbled...Internet."  I assumed they were installing WiFi.  Nope.  But I gave them some ice water and they sat on my couch for a bit.  It wasn't until later that day when I realized that not only did I not have WiFi, but none of the guys were in maintenance uniforms and not one of them had a visible GoCard (maintenance people almost always wear them like ID badges).  Oops?

I think a good general rule is this...


Another good general rule?  Carry pepper spray.  (I'm supposed to tell you to make it legal by registering your pepper spray with MPD...and I could certainly not say something like "It's so stupid - not to mention a violation of the Second Amendment - to have to register something that will only be used for self defense.  Do what you need to do to keep yourself safe, and the cops can just deal with the fact that you're taking personal responsibility for your own safety."  No, I couldn't say that at all...)

I am thankful that my friends are safe, and thankful that none of my things were taken.  But I'd left my phone and camera in a coat pocket on a chair - I escaped this one not because I was smart, but because I was lucky.