Once mugged, forever cautious

Two weeks ago, I was mugged at gunpoint yards away from — and seconds after — a therapy session. (Don’t try that at home, folks!) Thankfully, I was unharmed. A co-worker shared that one of her friends had also recently been mugged, this one involving a semi-automatic weapon while he was walking with his boyfriend. The police called it a hate crime, although the men weren’t sure they were targeted for being gay. I feel certain that I wasn’t targeted for that reason. The muggers were two young men wearing basketball jerseys and bouncing a basketball (prompting me to think they were going to play basketball). Instead they pulled a gun on me and demanded my cell phone and cash. Being literal at times to a fault (I often stare wide-eyed at joke-tellers without laughing because I’m trying so hard to get the joke), I gave the person with the gun my cell phone but not my wallet. I actually took my time separating the bills from the receipts (tax write-off is sacred!) and handed him the cash. I was grateful that he didn’t take the wallet, because I’ve heard that in recent years, it’s not as easy to renew or replace a non-driver state ID. My friend had to practically produce her daughter’s placenta (afterbirth? amniotic sac?) when she wanted to replace a lost Social Security card.

It happened on a Tuesday, 3 p.m. at 11th and Poplar streets in North Philly. My thoughts:

a) Wow, that was a great session. What’s my assignment? Oh yeah, I should make a list of everything I know about relationships and a list of everything I think a relationship should be. Or did she mean ... Oh shucks, I forgot. I’m glad I wrote it down! Wait a minute — people up ahead ...

b) There are two men up the road. I’d better cross the street. Oh, wait a minute, they’re wearing basketball jerseys and look, that one’s bouncing a basketball. I guess they’re going to the courts to shoot some ball. I don’t have to cross the street. They look like a couple of nice kids.

That’s when I got mugged.

Now, I don’t trust anyone on the street. Not that I did before. I’ve always been street smart. I’ve lived in the Big City for 15 years without incident. I engage in many street-safe habits that I’ll share in my next column. I thought I was a tough cookie. But since these kids purposely looked innocent — and I fell for it — now I cross the street even if it’s a little old lady limping with a cane. Since the mugging, I’ve crossed the street when I’ve seen two teen girls walking toward me, one visibly pregnant. Who knows, maybe the bump in the belly was a fake prop like the basketball was. Next, I saw what looked like a postal carrier: uniform, bag. But those can be purchased at any costume store — what if that woman was there to mug me? And then, I saw a woman pushing a baby stroller. I crossed the street of course: There was no way I could guarantee the kid wasn’t going to pull out a shotgun. I thought I was fine afterward, but I haven’t been sleeping well since. For example, it’s 5:45 a.m. as I write this. I haven’t been to sleep since the night before last. I’ll be writing more about street safety, for gay or straight folks, and getting support if, goddess forbid, you should ever be a victim of street crime.

’Til then, be safe, happy and wholly yourself!

Cassendre Xavier is a musician who writes, among other things, the ME! ME! ME! newsletter, available at www.cassendrexavier.com.