[ring ring ring]
He wants it when?
What the client wants, the client gets. I crank out a mean cease-and-desist letter. Mean, mean, mean! It's kind of funny how scary I can be on paper sometimes. My co-workers leave, one by one. I finish. Not bad. Under two hours. I can still make it home for the second half of So You Think You Can Dance! Then, I look outside. It's dark. No one's around. My better half is at the Dodger game.
Shit. I'm stranded.
Why stranded? Here's the thing. Unlike 99% of the people in this town, I walk to and from work. It's great...except for nights like this. Thank goodness I wore flats today. I pretty much ran all the way home.
I see you're still confused.
Two years ago, I was assaulted while walking home. It had rained earlier that day, and the streets were somewhat deserted. I was wearing a quilted Burberry jacket and carrying a small Burberry handbag (before you picture me decked out in the signature plaid, let me assure you that both featured only a subtle strip of the plaid). I suspect it was this recognizable plaid that attracted my mugger.
I was about to cross the street when a low-riding souped-up Honda Civic slowed down behind me. A passenger got out of the back seat. I was listening to my iPod, but I still noticed that this guy seemed to be following me. I quickened my pace. I felt him getting closer. I started running. Then I felt a sharp tug at my bag.
Grip. Of. Steel.
All I could think of at the time was "There is no way you're taking my purse, money, iPod, and BlackBerry, you asshole!" The next thing I know, I'm whacking this guy on the head with my rolled-up Paul Frank umbrella. Seriously. Just bludgeoning mercilessly.
Our eyes met. He looked shocked. And scared. Of me!
He took off running and jumped into the Honda Civic, which was waiting for him down the street. Sadly, the would-be mugger and his crew sped away before I could mentally jot down the license plate number.
I rarely walk home after dark now. I never listen to my iPod on the street at night. I constantly look all around me if I do make the evening trek. Looking back, attacking my assailant was perhaps ill-advised. He could've had a gun. He could've had a knife. Ah, stupid instinct and adrenaline!
So, here I am tonight, safe and sound, having sprinted all the way home.
And I didn't even wield a monkey umbrella.
[cue awful Rihanna song]