Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
THE FUNNY thing about statistics is that you never fully understand it until you become a part of it.
I know because I added to the long list of held up cell phone victims last Friday when I was on my way home from a friend's birthday party.
It was quarter before midnight and I was driving alone with my windows were rolled down. I knew I was an easy target for hold-up men.
I stopped at Quirino Avenue corner Plaza Dilao because the spotlight changed to red. Out of nowhere, a man in his early twenties inveigled half of his body in my car. He semi hugged me and pointed a gun on my temple.
He demanded for my cell phone. With the death of a journalist because of cell phone still fresh from my mind, fighting him was never an option.
I complied and began searching for the phone in my bag. He probably thought that I was taking a long time to find it, so he demanded for mybag instead.
I considered haggling with him for the identification cards in my wallet, but he became agitated and began saying expletives at me. I thought that he could be high on drugs and I did not want to excite him any further. I figure that it was not worth it.
I handed him my red shoulder bag containing my wallet with P2,000 in cash and my Nokia 3650 cell phone worth P15,000. I saw from my rearview mirror that he casually walked away from my car as if nothing happened.
It all happened less than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I looked around and there were cars on both my sides and nobody tried to help.
As soon as the stoplight turned green, I drove away. I was functioning on reflex. I was still in shock and thinking of what I was going to do next. It felt too surreal and felt like it happened to another person instead of me.
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