I awoke this morning to a gorgeous fall day with a heavy heart; I was robbed at gunpoint last night on my way home. Not even two houses away from my home I was forced to the ground with a gun put to my head while my assailant got away with my phone, the backpack containing my work shoes, and a wallet containing a dollar. Yes, a dollar...
Fortunately I was able to go to Brandon's house to call the police and NOPD responded reasonably fast. I couldn't really give a vivid description of the attacker; as horrible as it sounds he was a typical dreadlocked black guy that roams around this city.
This is not the first time I've been involved in a random act of violence. I was bashed in Boston almost 20 years ago and attacked in Florida in the mid-90's. I am grateful that last night ended with nothing more than a sore foot and a couple of bruises, but I'm confounded by the randomness that accompanies these acts. Was this guy so desperate that this was his only way to get ahead? Is he lazy and does this sort of thing instead of working for money? Do I give the appearance of an easy mark?
So now I have to deal with replacing ID's, getting another phone and all of the bullshit that comes with getting back on track after an event like this occurs. I'm angry but know that this could happen to anyone, anywhere. I can't blame this on New Orleans, and will continue to explore the city and look for the good in the people and places here.
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I'm so glad to hear you say those things. Normally, I would just have to yell into the next room to get a point across, but since you have your own tony Esplanade address and no selleca phone, I'm responding in text. I'm blogging about this tonight, just because it is on my mind and heart, too. Love you, Grille.
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