The story about how I got mugged

and had a bottle smashed over my head and said "you're an ambulance" to myself.

Yesterday I bought a new phone, one that is highly desirable, and I was playing with it at the bus stop after work -- broad daylight, downtown Baltimore. A youth standing nearby grabbed it so I said, "No!" and clutched it tighter. He maintained his grasp so I swung to my left, our hands locked on the device, and he moved with me. Presently, two of his aides came over to abet him. One of them tackled me and we all fell to the ground, me on my knees, the alleged thief and I still locked on the phone. A series of quick, ineffective blows were applied to my midsection. Finding no purchase there, one of the offenders manifested a glass bottle and, with a quick wrist movement, broke it over the back of my skull. Perhaps seeing more blood than they expected, the three ne'er-do-wells gave up their attack and sped off. With agility I found my feet and fled in the opposite direction.

Now I was speeding through the streets of a busy downtown, face red with my own blood. The right lens of my glasses was coated with the stuff. At this time I didn't realize I was bleeding. But I looked at my hand and saw I still held my new gadget and I was relieved -- until a dime-sized spot of blood fell onto the slick white bezel of the device. I was two blocks away from the scene of the crime. I stopped running. I stopped walking. I touched a wetness on my skull. My hand came away full and sticky. I thought I was going to fall to my knees. The phone, being new to me, confused my attempts at an emergency call. Breathing deeply, I gave it another shot.

A lost soul sitting on the sidewalk next to me asked me for a quarter, then looked away in horror when I turned to him. I realized I ought to apply some pressure to my wound. The man on the other end of the line asked me how old I was. I told him 32 and thought, well actually my birthday isn't until Monday so I said, "No, 31." A firetruck was dispatched. I hung up the phone. Dozens of faces streamed past me as workers went home for the weekend. One nice person named Kim, with a Sudoku book under her arm, stopped and asked was I okay. I asked her to stand next to me for a while. She asked if I wanted to sit on a park bench. I was confused by the question. She asked me my name for the second time then laughed. Up the street I saw a fire truck blazing toward us.

Then an ambulance came. The paramedic was pretty and professional. I sat on the bumper of the firetruck. The police asked me some questions like, "Was he light-skinned or dark-skinned." I said, "Oh dark-skinned definitely." "Like my complexion?" I said, "Certainly no lighter than you." Then the police officer drove me home. I called Stephanie and she almost cried when she saw me. I showed her my new phone and I thought it was a little broken from the scuffle, but she fixed it in two seconds. Now my phone works fine. It really is a cool phone.