More BART Violence.
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Joined: Aug 2008
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He added, 'My son is dead. I want somebody to pay for this.'
iLoqin and I were robbed in San Francisco some years back. We were walking down a busy section of Market Street, making our way back to the BART station (how ironic), when three black men picked up our tail. iLoqin and I both sensed something was awry--something we shared with one another after the fact--but declined to comment on the situation lest the other criticize us for unfounded paranoia or racial profiling.
We really should have said something about and acted on our suspicions (e.g., stopped in a store and picked up the walk when a large group of people passed).
The three men approached us when we came to a stop at a crosswalk. One of them asked for the time. I looked at my shiny Seiko watch, and my heart instantly grew heavy. They didn't want the time, of course. These men were all too familiar with the circadian rhythms of San Francisco. They wanted the watch.
I'm not sure how it happened, but suddenly I found one of the men going through my pockets at his leisure, repeating, "Don't make a scene. Don't make a scene." The other two gentlemen attended to iLoqin. My new friend was disappointed to find only change in my pockets. When he demanded money, I rashly conceded that I only had my ATM card on me. I knew my mistake right away and cast my eyes to the concrete in despair and defeat--utter embarrassment.
And then they evaporated deftly into the wild and lawless alleyways. My shiny Seiko watch was still on my wrist, and my ATM card was still in my wallet, which itself was somehow still tucked away in my back pocket. Apparently, my new friend's better two-thirds had sated themselves with a few $20 bills they'd found on iLoqin's person and decided to retreat before any one of the several passerby decided to point out our predicament and lend a helping hand.
iLoqin and I must have stood there for a full ten seconds before any dialogue or even movement came to pass. (Later, I would try to locate symbolic significance in the fact that this incident, which had begun with the asking for time, had effectively managed to freeze the fluidity and linearity of experience.) I relived what had just happened a thousand times in those ten seconds, trying to make sense of it, always failing. And when those ten seconds passed, we ambivalently turned eastward once again and resumed the walk to the BART station, reflecting silently, happy to be on our way home. It was a beautiful day, bright and cloudless, and people everywhere seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Most of us speculate on how bravely and courageously we will react during instances like these. But until it happens to you, you simply cannot know with absolute certainty what you will do. The men that robbed iLoqin and me never threatened us with weapons. What's more, the incident occurred at high noon and in plain sight. Maybe we could have been more assertive about the whole thing, physically defended ourselves, made a scene. All the same, I don't regret the course of action iLoqin and I took--or, rather, didn't take--because we're both alive today.
Besides, I figure those three men will get what's coming to them sooner or later anyway. Case in point: Christopher Gonzalez.
Last edited by BattleSchoolCpt; Apr 28, 2009 at 02:06 PM.
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Joined: Mar 2008
Posts: 3,856
From: San Leandro, CA
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Your son is paying for this.
iLoqin and I were robbed in San Francisco some years back. We were walking down a busy section of Market Street, making our way back to the BART station (how ironic), when three black men picked up our tail. iLoqin and I both sensed something was awry--something we shared with one another after the fact--but declined to comment on the situation lest the other criticize us for unfounded paranoia or racial profiling.
We really should have said something about and acted on our suspicions (e.g., stopped in a store and picked up the walk when a large group of people passed).
The three men approached us when we came to a stop at a crosswalk. One of them asked for the time. I looked at my shiny Seiko watch, and my heart instantly grew heavy. They didn't want the time, of course. These men were all too familiar with the circadian rhythms of San Francisco. They wanted the watch.
I'm not sure how it happened, but suddenly I found one of the men going through my pockets at his leisure, repeating, "Don't make a scene. Don't make a scene." The other two gentlemen attended to iLoqin. My new friend was disappointed to find only change in my pockets. When he demanded money, I rashly conceded that I only had my ATM card on me. I knew my mistake right away and cast my eyes to the concrete in despair and defeat--utter embarrassment.
And then they evaporated deftly into the wild and lawless alleyways. My shiny Seiko watch was still on my wrist, and my ATM card was still in my wallet, which itself was somehow still tucked away in my back pocket. Apparently, my new friend's better two-thirds had sated themselves with a few $20 bills they'd found on iLoqin's person and decided to retreat before any one of the several passerby decided to point out our predicament and lend a helping hand.
iLoqin and I must have stood there for a full ten seconds before any dialogue or even movement came to pass. (Later, I would try to locate symbolic significance in the fact that this incident, which had begun with the asking for time, had effectively managed to freeze the fluidity and linearity of experience.) I relived what had just happened a thousand times in those ten seconds, trying to make sense of it, always failing. And when those ten seconds passed, we ambivalently turned eastward once again and resumed the walk to the BART station, reflecting silently, happy to be on our way home. It was a beautiful day, bright and cloudless, and people everywhere seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Most of us speculate on how bravely and courageously we will react during instances like these. But until it happens to you, you simply cannot know with absolute certainty what you will do. The men that robbed iLoqin and me never threatened us with weapons. What's more, the incident occurred at high noon and in plain sight. Maybe we could have been more assertive about the whole thing, physically defended ourselves, made a scene. All the same, I don't regret the course of action iLoqin and I took--or, rather, didn't take--because we're both alive today.
Besides, I figure those three men will get what's coming to them sooner or later anyway. Case in point: Christopher Gonzalez.
iLoqin and I were robbed in San Francisco some years back. We were walking down a busy section of Market Street, making our way back to the BART station (how ironic), when three black men picked up our tail. iLoqin and I both sensed something was awry--something we shared with one another after the fact--but declined to comment on the situation lest the other criticize us for unfounded paranoia or racial profiling.
We really should have said something about and acted on our suspicions (e.g., stopped in a store and picked up the walk when a large group of people passed).
The three men approached us when we came to a stop at a crosswalk. One of them asked for the time. I looked at my shiny Seiko watch, and my heart instantly grew heavy. They didn't want the time, of course. These men were all too familiar with the circadian rhythms of San Francisco. They wanted the watch.
I'm not sure how it happened, but suddenly I found one of the men going through my pockets at his leisure, repeating, "Don't make a scene. Don't make a scene." The other two gentlemen attended to iLoqin. My new friend was disappointed to find only change in my pockets. When he demanded money, I rashly conceded that I only had my ATM card on me. I knew my mistake right away and cast my eyes to the concrete in despair and defeat--utter embarrassment.
And then they evaporated deftly into the wild and lawless alleyways. My shiny Seiko watch was still on my wrist, and my ATM card was still in my wallet, which itself was somehow still tucked away in my back pocket. Apparently, my new friend's better two-thirds had sated themselves with a few $20 bills they'd found on iLoqin's person and decided to retreat before any one of the several passerby decided to point out our predicament and lend a helping hand.
iLoqin and I must have stood there for a full ten seconds before any dialogue or even movement came to pass. (Later, I would try to locate symbolic significance in the fact that this incident, which had begun with the asking for time, had effectively managed to freeze the fluidity and linearity of experience.) I relived what had just happened a thousand times in those ten seconds, trying to make sense of it, always failing. And when those ten seconds passed, we ambivalently turned eastward once again and resumed the walk to the BART station, reflecting silently, happy to be on our way home. It was a beautiful day, bright and cloudless, and people everywhere seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Most of us speculate on how bravely and courageously we will react during instances like these. But until it happens to you, you simply cannot know with absolute certainty what you will do. The men that robbed iLoqin and me never threatened us with weapons. What's more, the incident occurred at high noon and in plain sight. Maybe we could have been more assertive about the whole thing, physically defended ourselves, made a scene. All the same, I don't regret the course of action iLoqin and I took--or, rather, didn't take--because we're both alive today.
Besides, I figure those three men will get what's coming to them sooner or later anyway. Case in point: Christopher Gonzalez.
And it is exactly this reason why I am working so hard to get my CCW here in CA, and why I have one for almost every other state in the US. I will not be a victim, nor will anyone I am with, or care about. I can't say what would have happend had I been you man, and armed...but I would like to hope there would have been 3 arrested...or dead criminals...and me safe and happy.
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I think you're under he false assumption that all human life is valuable. It is not. Some people have a positive societal value, i.e. they add benefit to society. Some have a neutral value, i.e. society can take 'em or leave 'em. Others have negative value, i.e. society is better off without them. Guess which category that dead moron falls in.
well FREAKING SAID!
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