Yesterday I got beaten up by a girl who stole my phone. I’m not badly injured, but my phone is very damaged. I wish I could say that it’s a new thing to have my phone stolen, or to get attacked on the streets of LA. I may not have new things to report, but here’s my day 5 experience.

I’m a big believer in therapy for everyone who can access it, and I go every Thursday in Silver Lake. On the way back, a woman asked to use my phone. “No, sorry, I’ve had bad experiences,” I said. She just kept asking. Once in Honolulu I let a homeless guy I knew use to my phone to get into a clinic, and it took a very long time. More importantly, I’ve already had my phone stolen at a bus stop this year. She was manic and had scratches all over her face, with one eyebrow almost completely torn off. That’s arguably the profile of someone who would cut and run, rather than returning a phone that could be sold for drugs.

The bus arrived, so I walked on and tapped my card. There was a man in a wheelchair nearby that I hadn’t seen, so the driver had me get off and wait. If that hadn’t happened, everything might’ve been fine. If I had gone into Akbar as one of my new things before taking the bus home, I may have never seen this woman. But how can you know?

Of course, the moment I stepped off the lady grabbed my phone and started getting away. It may be smart to just let a thief run and get your data back later, but that wasn’t the impulse I had. I’m a nanny for several families, many of whom have me on-call. Who knows when I could get my phone replaced? It would keep me out of work and make things very difficult for families. Not to mention, my phone is far and away the most expensive thing I own outside of my mattress.

I screamed for help. Most people just stared, but there was one large man nearby who helped me hold onto her. I couldn’t let go to hit her even if I wanted to, and her (meth?) strength was not letting up. Since I was just holding onto her torso, she managed to land a lot of blows on me and scratch me up pretty badly. My scalp still hurts from having my hair pulled. I figured she’d probably get away.

She finally figured she’d been beat, and threw my phone on the ground. The screen is cracked from top to bottom and malfunctioning in various ways. Thankfully, the bus driver had waited for me. Some ladies demanded that I not be let on, but they quickly realized that I wasn’t the perpetrator.

I was really impressed by the officers who took the report. I haven’t had the best experiences with the police– imagine if I wasn’t a white lady! They weren’t patronizing, or suspicious of the victim, like some other officers I’ve encountered.

It wasn’t as crazy a story as the last time I got my phone stolen, but at least that time my phone and I emerged unscathed.

“The muses are testing you,” my mom said, “because you’re trying to fall in love with LA again.” I’m even more afraid to go outside than the last time this happened. I was in a decent neighborhood, and had a death grip on my phone. All the more reason to get back on the horse and do more new things.

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