Welcome back to America, Paul
I was planning on writing a livejournal entry about my night in Oakland wednesday night, but I told the story to Beth on gchat, so I'm just going to copy that conversation. Here goes:
me: Want me to tell you about how I was assaulted and almost mugged in Oakland wednesday night?
Beth: YES PLEASE
me: Well Jeanine invited me to have sushi with her and a couple of her friends on 15th and Broadway.
me: Walking out, this group of about a dozen late-teen (I'd guess) thug-looking (black) people walked past as we were walking out of the restaurant. I didn't really pay them any mind.
me: The four of us walked behind them for and parted company at the BART station after we realized it was shut due to all the protesting.
me: The thugs had stopped just a block ahead, for no reason I could discern. I guess they were just loitering, which is something late-teen thug-types are wont to do.
Beth: I like how you are telling this story.
me: Jeanine and I were walking past them when when one of them said something I don't remember, like "Why are you walking past me?" or "Hey what's in that bag?" Both of those inquiries were made at some point, but I don't know which was first.
I ignored them and politely tried to get past them all.
me: Then one of them struck me on the ear from behind. I have no idea if it was a closed- or open-fisted attack.
Beth: !
me: Linear memory more or less fails at this point.
Beth: Right.
me: I know I turned around at some point, but I also know I kept walking and one of them (I actually think it was probably just one of the savages the entire time, but I'm not sure).
me: While I was turned around, walking backward, one of the creatures was sort of rushing at me, fist upraised as if to strike. I held my left arm up as I kept moving backward, ready to fend off another blow.
I was aware of of Jeanine calmly continuing to walk, too calmly for my taste, as I'd have preferred her to be running ahead.
Beth: Ha.
me: I don't think they were really bothering her, but I couldn't exactly attempt any kind of hasty departure (which may have prompted some further assault for all I know) with her moseying along like she was.
Beth: Right.
me: I guess the aggressive thing more or less stopped bearing down on me and I was able to "break away" with Jeanine.
I was grasping at her arms, trying to rush her forward and away, and one of them said something like "Hey leave the girl alone."
me: The maddening insult of which would have caused me to blink the misbegotten beast out of existence if I were, you know, a genie or something.
Beth: Psh.
Hahaha, yeah
What a thing for them to have said
me: But after that we were well on our way, and the cluster of thugs remained to loiter.
All my things, including the laptop I was stupid enough to bring to downtown Oakland at night, were intact.
Beth: That's good at least.
So it was like a walk-by ear smacking.
me: Yep.
me: Oh, at some point, I guess before I turned around, one of them grabbed my bag, but I slipped away.
I don't think I said a word to any of them throughout the assault, which was probably the smartest way to go. Anything I said, even politely, I'm sure would have escalated the situation. Since they (or at least one of them) was just looking to cause trouble, any utterance from me would have been interpreted as confrontational.
This followed another sad story from the night before. Coming back from the climbing gym, Creelman drove me to his place. From there, as per usual, I walked the block to the 51 bus stop at University and San Pablo. A not unattractive woman arrived at the bus stop about the same time I did. I didn't talk to her. Shortly a white pickup truck pulled up to the red light and stopped, like a good pickup. I noticed a white, shaved-headed guy in the passenger's seat and I remember thinking he looked a little sleazy. That judgment was confirmed when the guy, right before the light changed, asked the woman "How you doin'?" and maybe something else. The woman made a disgusted face and walked in from right next to the street a bit, and the light changed and that was that. Two minutes later the same asshole in the same pickup pulls up right next to the curb. The woman rushed away, back to the bus stop overhang. I don't remember if the guy said anything that time (not like he needed to). But then pickup peeled away. I regret not telling the woman the bus would be there any minute, because she'd never looked at the schedule to my knowledge. But I guess she was freaked out enough that she didn't want to stick around: she crossed the street and started walking. I got on the bus just two minutes later and passed her.
Sorry for the downers. I might post a little about my South American adventures soon. And I want to write a post about Bjorn Lomborg, whose newish book, Cool It, I read over the break. Stay tuned for happier words.
me: Want me to tell you about how I was assaulted and almost mugged in Oakland wednesday night?
Beth: YES PLEASE
me: Well Jeanine invited me to have sushi with her and a couple of her friends on 15th and Broadway.
me: Walking out, this group of about a dozen late-teen (I'd guess) thug-looking (black) people walked past as we were walking out of the restaurant. I didn't really pay them any mind.
me: The four of us walked behind them for and parted company at the BART station after we realized it was shut due to all the protesting.
me: The thugs had stopped just a block ahead, for no reason I could discern. I guess they were just loitering, which is something late-teen thug-types are wont to do.
Beth: I like how you are telling this story.
me: Jeanine and I were walking past them when when one of them said something I don't remember, like "Why are you walking past me?" or "Hey what's in that bag?" Both of those inquiries were made at some point, but I don't know which was first.
I ignored them and politely tried to get past them all.
me: Then one of them struck me on the ear from behind. I have no idea if it was a closed- or open-fisted attack.
Beth: !
me: Linear memory more or less fails at this point.
Beth: Right.
me: I know I turned around at some point, but I also know I kept walking and one of them (I actually think it was probably just one of the savages the entire time, but I'm not sure).
me: While I was turned around, walking backward, one of the creatures was sort of rushing at me, fist upraised as if to strike. I held my left arm up as I kept moving backward, ready to fend off another blow.
I was aware of of Jeanine calmly continuing to walk, too calmly for my taste, as I'd have preferred her to be running ahead.
Beth: Ha.
me: I don't think they were really bothering her, but I couldn't exactly attempt any kind of hasty departure (which may have prompted some further assault for all I know) with her moseying along like she was.
Beth: Right.
me: I guess the aggressive thing more or less stopped bearing down on me and I was able to "break away" with Jeanine.
I was grasping at her arms, trying to rush her forward and away, and one of them said something like "Hey leave the girl alone."
me: The maddening insult of which would have caused me to blink the misbegotten beast out of existence if I were, you know, a genie or something.
Beth: Psh.
Hahaha, yeah
What a thing for them to have said
me: But after that we were well on our way, and the cluster of thugs remained to loiter.
All my things, including the laptop I was stupid enough to bring to downtown Oakland at night, were intact.
Beth: That's good at least.
So it was like a walk-by ear smacking.
me: Yep.
me: Oh, at some point, I guess before I turned around, one of them grabbed my bag, but I slipped away.
I don't think I said a word to any of them throughout the assault, which was probably the smartest way to go. Anything I said, even politely, I'm sure would have escalated the situation. Since they (or at least one of them) was just looking to cause trouble, any utterance from me would have been interpreted as confrontational.
This followed another sad story from the night before. Coming back from the climbing gym, Creelman drove me to his place. From there, as per usual, I walked the block to the 51 bus stop at University and San Pablo. A not unattractive woman arrived at the bus stop about the same time I did. I didn't talk to her. Shortly a white pickup truck pulled up to the red light and stopped, like a good pickup. I noticed a white, shaved-headed guy in the passenger's seat and I remember thinking he looked a little sleazy. That judgment was confirmed when the guy, right before the light changed, asked the woman "How you doin'?" and maybe something else. The woman made a disgusted face and walked in from right next to the street a bit, and the light changed and that was that. Two minutes later the same asshole in the same pickup pulls up right next to the curb. The woman rushed away, back to the bus stop overhang. I don't remember if the guy said anything that time (not like he needed to). But then pickup peeled away. I regret not telling the woman the bus would be there any minute, because she'd never looked at the schedule to my knowledge. But I guess she was freaked out enough that she didn't want to stick around: she crossed the street and started walking. I got on the bus just two minutes later and passed her.
Sorry for the downers. I might post a little about my South American adventures soon. And I want to write a post about Bjorn Lomborg, whose newish book, Cool It, I read over the break. Stay tuned for happier words.